S^c" 


'UNIVERSITY  OF 

CALIFORNIA 

SAN  DIEGO 


By  the  Same  Author : 

WYMPS  :  Fairy  Tales.    With  eight  coloured 
illustrations   by   Mrs.   Percy   Dearmer. 
AT  THE  RELTON  ARMS  :  A  Novel. 
THE  MAKING  OF  A  SCHOOL-GIRL. 


THE 


MAKING  OF  A  PRIG 


BY 

EVELYN   SHARP 


JOHN   LANE:    THE    BODLEY    HEAD 
NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 

1897 


Copyright,  1897, 
BY  JOHN  LANE. 

A  tt  rights  reserved. 


SUtttbetsttg 
JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE,  U.S.A. 


The  Making  of  a  Prig 


CHAPTER   I 

IT  was  supper  time  at  the  Rectory,  and  the 
Rector  had  not  come  in.  There  were  two 
conflicting  elements  at  the  Rectory,  the  Rec- 
tor's disregard  of  details  and  his  sister's  sense 
of  their  importance.  There  was  only  one  will, 
however,  and  that  was  his  sister's.  So  the 
meals  were  always  punctual,  and  the  Rector 
was  always  late  ;  a  fact  that  by  its  very  re- 
currence would  have  long  ceased  to  be 
important,  had  not  Miss  Esther  loved  to 
accentuate  it  by  a  certain  formula  of  com- 
plaint that  varied  as  little  as  the  offence  itself. 
This  evening,  however,  he  was  later  than 
usual ;  and  Miss  Esther  did  not  attempt  to 
conceal  her  impatience  as  she  glanced  from 
the  old  clock  in  the  corner  down  to  the  fire- 
place, where  another  familiar  grievance  awaited 
her. 

"  Katharine,  how  often  have  I  told  you  not 
to  lie  on  the  rug  like  a  great  boy  ?  "  she  said 


The  Making  of  a  Prig 

querulously,  in  the  tone  of  one  who  has  not 
the  courage  or  the  character  to  be  really  angry. 
She  added  immediately,  "  I  want  you  to  ring 
the  bell  for  the  soup." 

The  girl  on  the  floor  rolled  over  lazily,  and 
shut  her  book  with  a  bang. 

"  Daddy  has  n't  come  in  yet,"  she  said, 
sitting  up  on  her  heels  and  shaking  the  hair 
out  of  her  eyes.  A  latent  spirit  of  revolt  was 
in  her  tone,  although  she  spoke  half  absently, 
as  if  her  thoughts  were  still  with  her  book. 
Miss  Esther  tapped  her  foot  on  the  ground 
impatiently. 

"  It  is  exactly  two  minutes  to  eight,"  she 
said  sharply.  "  I  asked  you  to  ring  the  bell, 
Katharine." 

The  girl  walked  across  the  room  in  a  lei- 
surely manner,  and  did  as  she  was  told  with 
a  great  assumption  of  doing  as  she  wished. 
Then  she  sat  on  the  arm  of  the  nearest  chair, 
and  the  rebellious  look  returned  to  her  face. 

"  How  do  you  know  it  is  daddy's  fault, 
Aunt  Esther  ?  The  Stoke  road  is  awfully 
bad,  and  it's  blowing  hard  from  the  north- 
west. He  may  have  been  kept,  and  cold 
soup  's  beastly.  I  think  it 's  a  shame." 

"  I  really  wish,"  complained  Miss  Esther, 
"  that  you  would  try  and  control  your  expres- 

2 


The  Making  of  a  Prig 

sions,  Katharine.  It  all  comes  of  your  romp- 
ing so  much  with  young  Morton.  Of  course 
I  am  a  mere  cipher  in  my  own  house ;  but 
some  day  your  father  will  be  sorry  that  he 
did  not  listen  to  me  in  time.  Can  you  never 
remember  that  you  are  not  a  boy  ? " 

"  I  am  not  likely  to  forget,"  muttered 
Katharine.  "  I  should  not  be  sticking  in  this 
stupid  old  place  if  I  were.  I  should  be  work- 
ing hard  for  daddy,  so  that  he  could  live  with 
his  books  and  be  happy,  instead  of  grinding 
his  life  away  for  people  who  only  want  to  get 
all  they  can  out  of  him.  What's  the  use  of 
being  a  girl  ?  Things  are  so  stupidly  arranged, 
it  seems  to  me  !  " 

"  My  dear,"  said  Miss  Esther,  who  had 
only  caught  the  end  of  her  speech,  "  it  is 
difficult  to  believe  that  your  father  is  one  of 
God's  chosen  ministers." 

"  But  he  is  n't,"  objected  Katharine.  "  That 's 
just  it.  They  made  him  go  into  the  church 
because  there  was  a  family  living  ;  so  how  on 
earth  could  he  have  been  chosen  ?  Why,  you 
told  me  so  yourself,  Aunt  Esther !  It 's  all 
rubbish  about  being  chosen,  is  n't  it  ?  " 

"  Don't  chatter  so  much,"  said  Miss  Esther, 
who  was  counting  her  stitches  ;  and  Katharine 
sighed  petulantly. 


The  Making  of  a  Prig 

"  I  can't  think,"  she  went  on  to  herself, 
"  how  he  was  ever  weak  enough  to  give 
in.  He  must  have  been  absent-minded 
when  they  ordained  him,  and  never  dis- 
covered it  until  afterwards  !  Don't  you  think 
so,  Dorcas  ?  " 

But  Dorcas,  who  had  only  just  brought  in 
the  soup,  was  hardly  in  a  position  to  make  the 
necessary  reply ;  and  Katharine  had  to  con- 
tent herself  with  laughing  softly  at  her  own 
joke.  The  meal  passed  almost  in  silence,  and 
they  had  nearly  finished  before  they  heard  the 
sound  of  wheels  on  the  wet  gravel  outside. 
Miss  Esther  looked  up,  and  listened  with  her 
chronic  air  of  disapproval. 

"  Dear  me,"  she  sighed,  "  your  father  has 
driven  round  to  the  stable  again  by  mistake. 
What  are  you  doing,  Katharine  ?  I  was  just 
going  to  say  grace." 

But  Katharine  had  already  dispensed  with 
the  ceremony  by  vanishing  through  the  door 
that  led  into  the  kitchen  ;  and  Miss  Esther 
hurried  over  it  alone,  and  managed  to  be  seated 
in  her  chair  near  the  reading-lamp,  upright 
and  occupied,  by  the  time  her  brother  came 
into  the  room.  There  was  something  pathetic 
in  the  way  she  elaborated  her  little  methods  of 
reproach  for  the  sake  of  one  on  whom  the 

4 


The  Making  of  a  Prig 

small  things  in  life  made  no  impression  at 
all.  And  when  the  Rector  entered,  smiling 
happily,  with  Katharine  hanging  on  his  arm 
and  whispering  eager  questions  into  his  ear, 
it  was  easy  to  see  that  his  mind  was  occu- 
pied by  something  far  more  engrossing  than 
the  fact  that  he  was  late  for  supper.  But 
Miss  Esther  preserved  her  look  of  injury, 
and  the  Rector,  who  was  making  futile 
efforts  to  produce  a  paper  parcel  from  the 
pocket  in  his  coat  tails,  suddenly  gave  up 
the  attempt  as  he  caught  sight  of  her,  and 
began  to  smooth  his  sleek  white  hair  with  a 
nervous  hand. 

"  Yes,  Esther,"  he  said,  although  she  had 
not  spoken  a  word. 

"  We  have  sent  away  the  soup,  but  there  is 
some  cold  meat  on  the  side,  I  believe.  Katha- 
rine, do  be  seated  instead  of  romping  round 
the  room  like  that !  Your  father  can  see  to 
himself,"  was  all  that  Miss  Esther  said. 

"  Yes,  Esther,"  said  the  Rector  submis- 
sively ;  and  he  helped  himself  to  some  apple 
pie,  and  sat  thoughtfully  with  the  knife  in 
his  hand  until  Katharine  came  and  replaced 
it  with  a  fork.  "  It  is  a  windy  night,"  he 
continued,  as  no  one  seemed  inclined  to  say 
anything.  Miss  Esther  was  waiting  for  her 

5 


The  Making  of  a  Prig 

opportunity,  and  Katharine  had  caught  the 
infection  of  her  mood,  and  was  again  absorbed 
in  her  book  on  the  hearthrug. 

"  Tom  Eldridge  came  up  about  his  dying 
wife,  and  Jones's  baby  is  no  better,"  said  Miss 
Esther,  presently. 

"  Dear,  dear  !  how  very  unfortunate  !  "  ob- 
served the  Rector,  smiling. 

"  I  said  you  must  have  been  detained  unex- 
pectedly," continued  Miss  Esther,  with  more 
emphasis.  "  They  seemed  very  much  in  want 
of  a  little  counsel." 

"  I  'm  certain  they  were  n't,"  said  Katharine 
audibly.  "Eldridge  wanted  some  more^port 
wine,  and  Mrs.  Jones  came  to  see  whaf  she 
could  get.  And  I  don't  fancy  either  of  them 
got  it." 

"  Very  unfortunate  !  "  said  the  Rector  again. 
"  I  was  certainly  detained,  Esther,  as  you 
cleverly  divined,  —  unavoidably  detained." 

"  People,"  said  Miss  Esther,  very  distinctly, 
"  who  have  spiritual  brothers  and  sisters 
depending  upon  them,  have  no  right  to  be 
detained." 

"  I  never  can  think,"  put  in  Katharine, 
"  how  any  one  has  the  courage  to  be  a  clergy- 
man. It  simply  means  having  crowds  of 
relations,  dull,  sordid,  grasping  relations,  who 

6 


The  Making  of  a  Prig 

come  and  rob  you  systematically  in  the  name 
of  the  Lord." 

"  A  spiritual  man,"  continued  Miss  Esther, 
without  heeding  the  interruption,  "is  not  —  " 

"  Oh,  auntie,"  implored  Katharine,  "  do  let 
daddy  eat  his  supper  in  peace." 

"  My  child,"  interposed  the  Rector  gently, 
"  I  have  finished  my  supper.  Does  Eldridge 
expect  me  to  do  anything  to-night,  Esther  ? 
Or  Mrs.  Jones?" 

"  My  dear  Cyril,"  said  Miss  Esther  sternly, 
"  if  your  own  instincts  do  not  prompt  you  to 
do  anything,  I  should  say  they  had  better  go 
untended." 

The  Rector  sighed,  and  played  with  his  knife. 
He  was  looking  like  a  schoolboy  in  dis- 
grace. Katharine  gave  a  scornful  little  laugh. 

"  What  is  the  good  of  making  all  that  fuss 
over  a  trifle  ?  Just  as  though  the  cough  of 
Jones's  baby  were  half  as  important  as  the 
genuine  rat-tail  daddy  has  picked  up  at 
Walker's !  " 

The  murder  was  out,  and  Miss  Esther  put 
down  her  knitting  and  prepared  for  a  charac- 
teristic outburst.  But  the  Rector  had  already 
unwrapped  his  treasure  and  placed  it  on  the 
table  before  him,  and  her  bitterest  reproaches 
fell  unheeded  on  his  ears. 

7 


The  Making  of  a  Prig 

"  Genuine  sixteenth  century,"  he  murmured, 
as  he  stroked  it  reverently  with  his  long,  thin 
fingers. 

"  Only  yesterday,"  said  the  strident  voice  of 
his  sister,  "  you  were  telling  me  you  had  no 
money  for  a  soup  kitchen.  It  was  a  poor  liv- 
ing, you  said  ;  and  now —  How  can  you  set 
such  an  example,  —  you  with  a  mission  in  life  ?  " 

"  I  vow  I  '11  never  have  a  mission  in  life," 
said  Katharine,  "  if  it  means  giving  up  every- 
thing that  makes  one  happy.  Poor  daddy  !  " 

"  One  of  Christ's  elect,"  continued  Miss 
Esther,  "  to  be  turned  aside  for  a  bit  of  tawdry 
pewter !  For  what  you  can  see  in  a  tarnished, 
old-fashioned  thing  like  that,  is  more  than  I 
can  understand." 

The  Rector  looked  up  for  the  first  time. 

"  Indeed,  Esther,"  he  said  in  a  hurt  tone, 
"  it  is  a  fine  piece  of  sixteenth  century  silver." 
Katharine  cast  a  wrathful  look  at  the  stern 
figure  near  the  reading-lamp,  and  came  over  to 
her  father's  side.  The  rebellious  note  had 
gone  from  her  voice  altogether  as  she  spoke  to 
him. 

"  Let  me  look,  daddy,  may  I  ? "  she  asked. 
Cyril  Austen  pulled  her  on  to  his  knee,  and 
they  bent  together  over  the  old  spoon.  Miss 
Esther  knitted  silently. 

8 


The  Making  of  a  Prig 

"  Let  me  see,"  said  the  Rector  presently, 
turning  an  unruffled  countenance  towards  his 
sister,  "  what  were  we  saying  ?  About  some 
parishioners,  was  n't  it  ?  " 

"  Parishioners  ?  How  can  you  talk  of  pa- 
rishioners, when  the  first  trivial  temptation 
draws  you  from  the  right  path  and  —  and 
makes  you  late  for  meals  ?  Is  n't  it  enough  to 
neglect  your  sacred  duty,  without  upsetting  the 
household  as  well  ?  Coming  in  at  this  time  of 
—  what  is  it  now,  Cyril  ?  " 

For  a  worried  look  had  suddenly  crossed 
the  Rector's  face.  He  pulled  out  his  watch, 
and  consulted  it  with  the  nervous  haste  of  a 
man  who  is  constantly  haunted  by  having 
forgotten  something. 

"  Let  me  see,  —  how  very  stupid  of  me,"  he 
said,  laughing  slightly.  "  I  fancy  there  was 
something  else,  now ;  whatever  could  it  have 
been,  I  wonder?  It  was  not  the  spoon, 
Esther,  that  made  me  late.  Kitty,  my  child, 
what  did  I  say  to  you  when  I  came  in,  just 
now  ?  " 

"  You  said,  c  I  have  picked  up  a  genuine 
rat-tail  at  Walker's ; '  and  then  you  gave  your 
hat  to  Jim,  and  hung  up  the  whip  on  the 
hat  peg  ! " 

"  Bad  child ! "  said  the  Rector,  still  looking 
9 


The  Making  of  a  Prig 

uneasily  about  him.  "  I  wonder  if  Jim  would 
know  ? " 

But  here  a  light  was  thrown  on  the  matter 
by  the  entrance  of  Dorcas,  who  brought  the 
ambiguous  message  from  Jim  that  the  pony 
was  ready  to  start  again,  if  the  Rector  was 
"  going  to  do  anything  about  the  poor  creature 
down  agin  the  chalk  pit." 

"  Bless  my  soul !  "  exclaimed  the  Rector. 
"  To  be  sure,  that  was  it.  Esther,  brandy  and 
blankets,  my  dear,  —  anything  you  Ve  got ! 
We  must  bring  him  home  at  once,  of  course. 
I  knew  there  was  something.  Esther,  will 
you  —  ?  Ah,  she  always  understands." 

For,  to  do  her  credit,  Miss  Esther  never 
wasted  her  time  in  reproaches  when  there  was 
really  something  to  be  done ;  and  in  the  bustle 
that  followed,  while  the  pony  carriage  was  being 
filled  with  everything  that  could  be  of  use  in 
case  of  an  accident,  Katharine  found  herself  left 
in  the  hall,  with  the  intolerable  feeling  of  being 
neglected,  and  burning  with  curiosity  as  to  the 
cause  of  it  all. 

"  Daddy,  daddy,  what  is  it  ?  Is  any  one 
hurt  ?  May  n't  I  come  too  ?  "  she  pleaded, 
as  the  Rector  came  out  to  look  for  his  coat. 

"  Eh,  what  ?  Oh,  a  poor  fellow  broken  his 
leg  in  the  chalk  pit.  Doctor 's  with  him  now. 

10 


The  Making  of  a  Prig 

What  is  he  like  ?  Kind  of  tourist,  I  should 
fancy ;  evidently  did  n't  see  his  way  in  the 
dark.  There,  run  off  to  bed,  Kitty ;  you  '11 
hear  all  about  it  in  the  morning." 

"  But  I  want  to  hear  now"  said  the  child, 
quivering  with  impatience.  "  What  sort  of 
man  is  he,  daddy  ?  Shall  I  like  him,  do  you 
think  ?  Oh,  do  tell,  daddy  !  " 

"  My  child,  I  hardly  noticed.  My  hat  — 
ah,  thanks !  He  had  a  black  beard,  I  fancy, 
—  quite  young  though,  I  should  say,  —  and 
a  sallow  face  —  " 

"  How  unhealthy  it  sounds ;  and  I  hate 
unhealthy  people !  I  don't  think  I  want 
to  go  now,"  said  Katharine,  in  an  altered 
tone. 

Nevertheless,  when  the  unwilling  pony  was 
being  urged  again  into  the  storm  and  the  dark- 
ness, some  one  slipped  through  the  little  group 
in  the  porch,  and  sprang  into  the  carriage  beside 
the  Rector.  And  the  Rector,  who  was  incapa- 
ble of  a  decided  action  himself  and  never  dis- 
puted one  on  the  part  of  others,  threw  the  rug 
over  her  knees,  and  they  drove  off  together 
to  the  scene  of  the  accident.  It  was  a  wild, 
black  night ;  and  the  Rector  shivered  as  he 
bent  his  head  to  the  furious  gusts  of  wind,  and 
allowed  the  pony  to  struggle  on  feebly  at  its 

II 


The  Making  of  a  Prig 

own  pace.  But  Katharine  sat  upright  with 
her  head  thrown  back,  and  would  have  liked 
to  laugh  aloud  as  the  wind  caught  her  long 
loose  hair  and  lashed  it,  wet  with  rain,  across 
her  face. 

The  chalk  pit  was  situated  at  the  further 
end  of  the  village  ;  on  a  fine  day,  it  might  have 
been  reached  in  a  ten  minutes'  drive,  but  to- 
night it  was  nearly  half  an  hour  before  the 
pony  managed  to  bring  its  load  to  a  standstill 
beside  the  group  of  men  who  had  been  wait- 
ing there  since  dusk.  Katharine  recognised 
all  the  village  familiars  who  came  forward  at 
their  approach,  —  the  doctor,  who  had  tended 
her  childish  maladies  ;  the  schoolmaster,  who 
had  taught  her  to  read ;  the  churchwarden, 
who  still  loved  to  tell  her  stories  that  she 
had  long  ago  learnt  to  know  by  heart.  But 
she  had  no  eyes  for  any  of  these  to-night ; 
she  looked  beyond  them  all,  as  she  jumped 
lightly  out  of  the  carriage,  at  the  man  who  lay 
on  the  ground  with  his  eyes  closed.  A  lantern 
hung  from  the  branch  above,  and  swung  to  and 
fro  in  the  wind,  casting  intermittent  gleams  of 
light  across  his  face. 

He  opened  his  eyes  wearily  as  the  Rector 
came  forward,  and  they  rested  at  once  upon 
Katharine,  who  stood  bending  over  him  with 

12 


The  Making  of  a  Prig 

the  rather  heartless  curiosity  of  a  very  young 
girl. 

"  Kitty,  move  out  of  the  way,  my  child," 
the  Rector's  voice  was  saying. 

"  I  don't  think  he  looks  unhealthy  at  all," 
said  Katharine  dreamily. 


CHAPTER   II 

THE  sun  rose,  the  following  morning,  on  a 
scene  of  devastation.  The  storm  of  the  pre- 
vious night  had  come  at  the  end  of  a  month's 
hard  frost,  and  everything  was  in  a  state  of 
partial  thaw.  Glistening  pools  of  water  lay  in 
the  fields  on  the  top  of  the  still  frozen  ground, 
looking  like  patches  of  snow  in  the  pale  sun- 
shine ;  and  a  curious  phenomenon  was  discern- 
ible in  the  brooks  and  the  ditches,  where  a 
layer  of  calm  water  covered  the  ice  that  still 
bound  the  flowing  stream  below.  The  only 
trace  of  last  night's  gale  was  a  distant  moaning 
in  the  tree-tops ;  while  above  was  a  deepening 
blueness  of  sky  and  a  growing  warmth  in 
the  sunshine.  There  was  winter  still  on  the 
ground,  and  the  beginning  of  spring  in 
the  air. 

Two  women  had  met  under  the  beech-trees 
at  the  edge  of  the  chalk  pit.  Early  as  it  was 
they  had  already  collected  large  bundles  of 
sticks ;  for  the  beauty  of  the  morning  was 
nothing  to  them,  and  the  storm,  as  far  as  they 

14 


The  Making  of  a  Prig 

were  concerned,  merely  meant  the  acquisition 
of  firewood.  They  had  matter  for  conversa- 
tion enough,  however;  and  it  was  this  that 
was  making  them  loiter  so  early  in  the  morn- 
ing near  the  scene  of  yesterday's  accident. 

"  Is  it  the  poor  thing  what  fell  down  yonder, 
you  be  a-talkin'  of,  Mrs.  Jones  ?  'Cause  I 
see  Jim  hisself  this  blessed  morning,  I  did, 
and  you  can't  tell  me  nothing  I  doan't  know 
already,  you  can't,  Mrs.  Jones,"  said  Widow 
Priest  with  fine  scorn. 

There  was  a  jealousy  of  long  standing  be- 
tween the  two  neighbours.  Mrs.  Jones  was 
the  sturdy  wife  of  the  sexton,  and  her  family 
was  both  large  and  increasing,  —  a  fact  which 
she  attributed  entirely  to  Providence  ;  though, 
when  three  of  them  succumbed  to  insufficient 
food  and  care,  she  put  down  their  loss  to  the 
same  convenient  cause,  and  extracted  as  much 
consolation  as  she  could  out  of  three  visits  to 
the  churchyard.  Widow  Priest,  on  the  other 
hand,  had  buried  no  one  in  the  little  church- 
yard on  the  hill.  For  her  husband  had  com- 
mitted suicide,  and  they  had  laid  him  to  an 
uneasy  rest  without  the  sedative  of  a  religious 
ceremony  ;  and  his  widow  was  thus  robbed 
even  of  the  triumph  of  alluding  to  his  funeral. 
So  her  widowhood  did  not  bring  her  its  usual 

15 


The  Making  of  a  Prig 

compensations;  and  she  felt  bitter  towards  the 
wife  of  the  sexton,  who  had  buried  her  three 
and  kept  five  others,  and  would  probably  re- 
place the  lost  ones  in  time. 

"  I  bain't  so  fond  o'  gossiping  nor  what  you 
be,  Widow  Priest,"  returned  Mrs.  Jones  in 
loud,  hearty  tones.  "  I  got  no  time  for  talking 
wi'  strangers  here  an'  strangers  there,  wi'  my 
man  an'  five  little  'uns  to  do  for.  An'  then 
there  's  always  the  three  graves  of  a  Saturday 
to  tidy  up,  which  you  ain't  got,  poor  thing ; 
not  but  what  I  'm  saying  it  be  your  fault,  in 
course,  Widow  Priest." 

Widow  Priest  gave  a  contemptuous  sniff" 
as  she  sat  down  to  tie  up  her  fagots,  and  Mrs. 
Tones  remained  standing;  in  front  of  her,  with 

•/  O 

one  arm  thrown  round  her  bundle  of  sticks, 
and  the  other  placed  akimbo,  an  effective 
picture  of  triumphant  woman. 

"  Touching  the  poor  thing  what  broke  his 
back  yonder,"  she  continued  cheerfully :  "  I 
was  putting  the  baby  to  bed  at  the  time,  I 
was,  and  I  see  the  whole  thing  happen  from 
my  top  window,  I  did.  He  jumped  the  fence, 
all  careless  like,  jest  as  though  he  did  n't  know 
the  pit  were  there  for  sure.  An'  straightway 
he  tripped  up,  he  did,  an'  down  he  went.  God 
help  him,  I  says !  An'  I  puts  the  baby  down, 

16 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

an'  I  says  to  our  Liz,  f  Here,  my  child/  I 
says,  *  stand  by  your  precious  brother  while 
I  goes  across  to  the  pit,'  I  says.  An'  jest 
as  I  says  that,  up  comes  the  Rector  an'  the 
doctor  with  him,  driving  friendly  like  together 
they  was.  So  I  says  to  our  Liz,  'It's  Provi- 
dence,' I  says,  'what  sent  they  two  blessed 
creatures  here  this  day,'  I  says.  An'  I  caught 
up  my  shawl,  I  did,  an'  went  hollerin'  after 
them.  'What  is  it,  Mrs.  Jones?'  says  the 
Rector,  c  is  it  the  baby  again  ?  '  — c  Baby  ? '  I 
says,  '  no,  sir ;  not  but  what  it  racks  me  to 
hear  that  child  cough,  it  do.  There  be  a  man 
yonder,'  I  says,  'jest  broke  his  neck  down 
agin  the  chalk  pit.'  Lord !  it  were  a  sight 
to  see  they  two  men  turn  that  pony  round  ! 
An'  the  rain  were  that  bad,  it  give  me  lumbago 
all  down  my  back,  that  did.  Not  but  what 
I  soon  got  back  to  baby  again,  poor  little 
angel,  with  a  cough  that  makes  my  heart  ache, 
to  hear  it  going  jest  like  the  others  did  afore 
they  died.  But  ye  did  n't  see  him  fall  in, 
now ;  did  ye,  Widow  Priest  ?  " 

The  widow  shouldered  her  fagots  grimly, 
and  stalked  off  with  dignity.  When  she 
reached  the  bend  of  the  road,  she  turned 
round  and  shouted  a  parting  word  in  a  tone 
of  unmitigated  contempt. 

17 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

"  It  hain't  his  neck,  nor  his  back,  Mrs. 
Jones.  It  be  both  his  legs,  an'  he  be  at  the 
Rectory  now,  in  the  best  bedroom,  he  be ; 
an'  there  he  '11  likely  stop  a  month  or  twos 
Jim  says,  he  do.  But  Jim  didn't  give  ye  a 
call  perhaps,  Mrs.  Jones  ? " 

"  Bless  ye,  Widow  Priest,  I  ain't  told  ye 
half  what  I  know,"  cried  Mrs.  Jones.  "  You 
be  a  poor  thing,  you  be,  if  ye  can't  stand  to 
hear  a  body's  tale ;  an'  you  that 's  so  lonesome 
too,  an'  got  no  one  to  do  for,  like  I  have. 
Lord,  what  a  hurry  some  folk  do  be  in,  for 
sure  !  Eh,  but  that  be  Miss  Katharine  yon- 
der, blest  if  it  ain't ;  an'  Widow  Priest  be  out 
o'  sight,  too !  I  reckon  as  Miss  Katharine 
knows  more  nor  Jim,  an'  I  be  going  — " 

But  a  wail  from  the  cottage  opposite  awak- 
ened the  mother's  sense  of  duty,  and  she 
hastened  across  the  road  and  forgot  all  about 
the  accident  in  an  immediate  necessity  for 
castigation. 

Katharine  came  over  the  brow  of  the  hill 
that  sloped  down  towards  the  chalk  pit,  scaled 
the  wooden  fence  at  the  bottom,  and  skirted  the 
edge  of  the  little  chasm  until  she  came  to 
the  line  of  beech-trees.  Here  she  paused  for 
a  moment,  pecked  a  hole  in  the  soft  ground 
with  her  heel,  and  peered  thoughtfully  down 

18 


The  Making   of  a   Prig 

into  the  pit.  Then  she  turned  abruptly  away 
again,  and  struck  across  the  fields  to  the  further 
side  of  the  village,  where  she  sped  down  a 
grassy  lane  that  was  for  the  most  part  under 
water,  and  stopped  at  last  before  a  gap  in  the 
hedge  that  was  hardly  large  enough  to  be 
noticeable.  She  squeezed  adroitly  through  it, 
however,  and  came  in  view  of  an  ugly  modern 
house  standing  in  a  neglected  looking  gar- 
den, with  an  untidy  farmyard  and  some  stable 
buildings  at  the  back.  Here  she  was  careful 
to  keep  a  clump  of  box-trees  between  herself 
and  the  front  of  the  house,  until  she  could 
come  out  with  safety  into  the  open  and  ap- 
proach the  iron  fence  that  separated  the  pad- 
dock from  the  lawn.  This  she  vaulted  easily, 
dropping  lightly  on  the  grass  beyond,  and 
managed  to  arrive  at  last  unnoticed,  under  a 
small  oriel  window  at  the  corner  of  the  house. 
She  picked  up  a  handful  of  small  stones,  and 
swung  them  with  a  sure  aim  at  the  little  glass 
panes,  and  called,  "  Coo-ey,"  as  loudly  as  she 
dared. 

"  Lazy  toad ! "  she  muttered  impatiently. 
"  On  a  morning  like  this,  too  !  And  just 
when  I  had  got  a  real  adventure  to  tell  him, 
that  he  knows  absolutely  nothing  about,  not 
anything  at  all !  " 

19 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

She  did  not  throw  up  any  more  stones,  but 
mounted  the  iron  railings  instead,  and  sat 
there  with  her  feet  dangling  and  her  eyes 
fixed  on  the  oriel  window. 

"  It 's  the  biggest  score  I  've  ever  had  over 
him,"  she  chuckled  to  herself.  ct  I  think  I 
shall  explode  soon,  if  he  does  n't  wake  up. 
I  'm  getting  so  awfully  hungry,  too  ;  it  must 
be  eight  o'clock." 

She  called  again  presently,  without  chan- 
ging her  position  ;  and  this  time  there  was  a 
sign  of  life  behind  the  oriel  window,  and 
the  curtains  were  drawn  aside.  Katharine  for- 
got all  her  previous  caution,  and  gave  a  loud 
"  whoop "  of  satisfaction.  The  lattice  flew 
open,  and  some  one  with  rumpled  hair  and 
flushed  cheeks  looked  out  and  yawned. 

"  Don't  make  such  a  shindy,  Kit ;  you  '11 
wake  the  mother,"  he  grumbled.  "  Why  the 
dickens  have  you  come  so  beastly  early  ?  " 

"  Because  Aunt  Esther  was  asleep,  of  course," 
answered  Katharine  promptly.  "  Hurry  up, 
Ted,  and  have  your  bath;  it'll  make  you  feel 
piles  better.  And  you  '11  have  to  get  me  some 
food ;  I  could  eat  my  boots." 

"  Don't  do  that,"  said  Ted.  "  Last  night's 
steak  will  do  just  as  well." 

"How  is  she?'"  asked  Katharine,  with  a 
20 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

jerk  of  her  head  towards  the  front  of  the 
house. 

"  Awful.  She 's  getting  worse.  She  docks 
the  pudding  course  at  supper  now.  Don't 
go,  Kitty ;  I  '11  be  down  directly." 

He  was  not  long,  but  she  was  full  of  im- 
patient reproaches  by  the  time  he  joined  her 
at  the  fence. 

"  I  believe  you  'd  like  to  give  the  world 
a  shove  to  make  it  go  round  quicker,"  he 
retorted,  swinging  himself  up  beside  her. 

"  Well,  you  surely  don't  think  it  moves 
very  fast  now,  do  you  ? "  she  said.  "  At 
all  events,  Ivingdon  does  n't,"  she  added 
emphatically. 

11  Well,  what  did  you  come  for,  old  chum  ?  " 
he  asked,  smiting  her  shoulder  with  rough 
friendliness.  "  Not  to  complain  of  this  slow 
old  hole,  I  bet?" 

"  Get    me    something   to   eat,  and   I  '11  tell 

» 
you. 

"  Oh,  hang,  Kitty !  I  can't.  Cook  will 
swear,  or  go  to  the  mother,  or  something. 
Can't  you  wait  till  you  get  home  ?  " 

"  No,  I  can't.  And  I  did  n't  tell  you  to  go 
to  cook,  or  to  her ;  did  I,  stupid  ?  Is  n't  there 
a  pantry  window,  and  is  n't  the  larder  next  to 
the  pantry,  and  are  n't  the  servants  having 

21 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

breakfast  in  the  kitchen,  out  of  the  way  ? 
Eh?" 

"  Well,  I  'm  bothered  !  But  I  can't  get  up 
to  that  window,  anyhow." 

"  There 's  a  loose  brick  just  below,  and  you 
know  it,  you  lazy  boy !  What 's  the  use  of 
being  exactly  six  foot,  if  you  can't  climb  into 
a  window  on  the  ground  floor?  /  can,  and 
I  'm  only  five  foot  four.  Oh,  you  need  n't 
bother,  if  you  're  afraid  !  I  can  keep  my  news, 
for  that  matter." 

"  I  don't  believe  there  is  any  news.  Why, 
I  only  saw  you  yesterday  afternoon.  And 
nothing  ever  happens  in  Ivingdon.  You  are 
only  rotting,  are  n't  you,  Kit  ?  " 

"  All  right ;  I  don't  want  to  tell  you,  I  'm 
sure.  Good-bye,"  said  Katharine,  without 
moving  a  step. 

He  called  himself  a  fool,  and  told  her  she 
was  a  beastly  nuisance,  and  that  of  course  there 
was  n't  any  news,  and  he  did  n't  want  to  hear 
it  if  there  was.  And  he  finally  strolled  round 
to  the  pantry  window,  as  she  knew  he  would, 
and  returned  with  a  medley  of  provisions  in 
his  hands.  They  laughed  together  at  the  odd 
selection  he  had  made,  —  at  the  cold  pie  he  was 
balancing  on  a  slice  of  bread,  and  the  jam  tart 
that  crowned  the  jug  of  milk  ;  and  they  fought 

22 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

over  everything  like  two  young  animals,  and 
drank  out  of  the  same  jug  and  spilled  half  its 
contents,  and  ended  in  chasing  one  another 
round  the  paddock  for  no  reason  whatever. 

"  Walk  home  with  me,  and  I  '11  tell  you  the 
news.  Come  on,  Ted  !  "  she  cried. 

"  Guess  I  will,  and  chance  it.  If  she 
does  n't  like  my  being  late  for  breakfast  she  '11 
have  to  do  the  other  thing.  Through  with 
you,  Kitty,  and  don't  make  the  hole  any 
larger !  There 's  always  the  chance  that  she 
might  have  it  mended,  in  a  spasm  of  extrav- 
agance, and  that  would  be  so  bally  awkward 
for  us." 

She  told  her  news  as  they  went  swinging 
along  side  by  side  over  the  wet  fields,  leap- 
ing the  pools  of  standing  water,  and  switching 
the  wet  twigs  in  each  other's  face.  But  they 
grew  quieter  as  the  interest  of  the  tale  deep- 
ened ;  and  by  the  time  Katharine  had  reached 
the  episode  of  the  chalk  pit,  Ted  was  walking 
gloomily  along  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets 
and  his  eyes  bent  on  the  ground. 

"  You  always  have  all  the  luck,  Kitty,"  he 
said  mournfully.  "  Why  was  n't  I  there  ? 
Think  of  the  use  I  should  have  been  in  help- 
ing him  into  the  carriage ;  only  think  of  it, 
Kitty  !  " 

23 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  You  would  n't  have  been  a  bit  of  good," 
she  returned  cruelly.  "  You  're  much  too 
clumsy.  They  wouldn't  even  let  Jim  or 
daddy  help.  /  held  his  head,  so  there ! " 

"  Well,  I  suppose  I  could  have  held  his 
beastly  head,  too,  could  n't  I  ?  "  roared  Ted. 

"  It  was  n't  a  beastly  head ;  it  was  awfully 
nice,  —  hair  all  silky,  not  baby's  curls  like 
yours,"  said  Katharine  scornfully.  "  And 
was  n't  he  plucky,  too !  His  leg  must  have 
hurt  frightfully,  but  he  just  did  n't  say  a  word 
or  utter  a  sound.  All  the  way  home,  when- 
ever the  thing  jolted  him,  he  just  screwed  up 
his  mouth  and  looked  at  me,  and  that  was  all. 
It  was  the  finest  thing  I  Ve  ever  seen." 

"  But  you  have  n't  seen  much,"  said  Ted. 

"  No,  I  have  n't.  But  I  've  seen  you  squirm 
when  you  had  toothache.  And  you  're  not 
fit  to  speak  to  if  you  have  an  ordinary  head- 
ache," laughed  Katharine. 

They  walked  the  rest  of  the  way  in  silence. 

"  That  is  where  he  lies  now,"  said  Katharine, 
with  a  dramatic  gesture  towards  the  spare-room 
window.  Her  cheeks  were  red  with  excite- 
ment, and  she  never  noticed  the  look  on  Ted's 
face  as  he  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  made  a 
great  pretence  of  whistling  carelessly. 

"  What  sort  of  a  chap  is  he  ?  Some  tourist 
24 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

bounder,  I  suppose,"  he  condescended  to 
say. 

"  He  is  n't  a  bounder.  He  has  awfully 
nice  hands,  —  white,  and  thin,  and  soft.  He  's 
rather  pale,  with  a  lot  of  black  hair  and  a 
curly  beard." 

"  What  a  played-out  chap  to  make  such  a 
fuss  about !  "  said  Ted,  turning  away  contemp- 
tuously. "  Sounds  more  like  a  monkey  than 
anything  else.  Good-bye.  I  wish  you  joy 
of  him  ! " 

"  I  suppose  I  '11  see  you  again  some  time?  " 
she  called  after  him. 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  I  suppose  so." 

"  And  it  was  news,  was  n't  it,  Ted  ?  " 

"You  seem  to  think  so,  anyway." 

"  Poor   Ted !  "     She    laughed,  and  ran  in- 

O  * 

doors.  But  he  had  hardly  crossed  the  first 
field  before  she  had  caught  him  up  again, 
breathless  and  penitent. 

"  I  did  n't  mean  it,  Ted  ;  I  did  n't,  really , 
old  boy.  It  was  n't  news,  and  he  is  a  monkey, 
and  I  'm  a  horrid  pig.  Come  up  after  lunch, 
won't  you,  Ted  ?  I  promise  not  to  talk  about 
him  once,  and  I  want  to  show  you  something. 
You  will  come,  Ted,  won't  you  ? " 

She  flung  her  arms  round  him  in  her  im- 
pulsive way,  and  gave  him  one  of  her  rough, 

25 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

playful  hugs.  But  for  the  first  time  in  his 
life,  Ted  shook  her  off  stiffly,  and  hastened  on. 

"  What 's  the  matter  ?  "  asked  Katharine, 
more  perplexed  than  annoyed. 

"  Oh,  all  right ;  I  '11  come.  Don't  be  a 
fool,  Kitty !  "  he  jerked  over  his  shoulder ;  and 
she  turned  away,  only  half  satisfied,  and  went 
slowly  into  the  house.  It  was  characteristic 
of  her  that  the  smallest  lack  of  response  from 
some  one  else  would  change  her  mood  imme- 
diately ;  and  when  she  entered  the  dining-room 
a  few  minutes  later,  her  vivacity  was  all  gone, 
and  the  first  words  she  caught  of  the  conver- 
sation at  the  breakfast-table  only  helped  to 
irritate  her  still  further. 

"  Oh,  bother  Mr.  Wilton  !  "  she  said  crossly. 
"  The  whole  house  seems  to  have  gone  mad 
over  Mr.  Wilton.  I  am  tired  of  hearing  his 
name." 

The  Rector  seemed  unconscious  of  her  re- 
mark, and  only  pulled  her  hair  softly  as  she 
slipped  into  the  chair  beside  him.  But  Miss 
Esther  stopped  abruptly  in  the  middle  of  a 
sentence,  and  cast  a  meaning  glance  towards 
Katharine  which  her  father  did  not  see,  though 
she  of  course  did. 

"  My  dear,"  said  Mr.  Austen,  in  reply  to 
his  sister,  "  I  am  sure  you  are  quite  compe- 

26 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

tent  to  do  it.  Nancy  always  said  you  were 
a  born  nurse ;  and  Nancy  knew,  bless  her  ! 
Besides,  the  poor  young  man  has  been  sent  to 
us  in  his  affliction,  and  there  is  nothing  else 
to  be  done,  is  there  ?  My  child,  it  will  not 
interest  you ;  we  were  only  saying  that  Mr.  — 
Wilton,  is  it  ?  —  would  require  careful  nurs- 
ing ;  and  your  aunt  —  " 

"  Really,  Katharine,  there  is  no  necessity 
for  you  to  interfere.  You  know  too  much  as 
it  is,  and  this  question  is  not  one  that  concerns 
you  at  all.  Perhaps  you  will  keep  to  the 
matter  in  hand  until  it  is  settled,  Cyril ! " 

"  My  dear,  I  thought  it  was  settled,"  said 
the  old  man  mildly.  "  The  poor  young  fel- 
low has  to  be  nursed,  and  you  are  the  best 
person  to  do  it.  So  there  is  nothing  else,  is 
there,  Esther,  that  need  detain  me  ?  I  am 
rather  anxious  —  that  is,  I  would  like  to  finish 
my  paper  on  the  antiquities  of  the  county, 
and  it  is  already  ten  minutes  past  — " 

"  It  is  a  most  extraordinary  thing,"  inter- 
rupted Miss  Esther  irritably,  "  that  you  never 
will  give  your  attention  to  anything  that  really 
matters.  You  totally  misunderstand  my  mean- 
ing, Cyril.  How  can  I,  your  sister  and  a 
single  woman,  with  due  propriety  —  Katharine, 
you  can  go  and  feed  the  chickens." 

27 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

Katharine  did  not  move,  and  the  Rector 
got  up  from  his  chair. 

"  My  dear,"  he  remonstrated,  "  I  think  you 
over-estimate  the  difficulty.  It  is  the  duty  of 
the  woman  to  look  after  the  sufferer,  is  it  not  ? 
I  really  think  there  is  nothing  more  to  be  said 
about  it.  Meanwhile  —  " 

"  I  don't  know  why  you  are  in  such  a  hurry, 
Cyril ;  it  is  the  day  for  the  library  to  be 
cleaned,  so  you  cannot  use  it  yet.  The  whole 
business  is  most  inopportune  ;  why  should  he 
break  his  leg  in  Ivingdon,  when  he  might  have 
done  it  quite  conveniently  in  the  county  town, 
and  been  taken  to  the  infirmary  like  any  one 
else?" 

The  Rector  wondered  vaguely  why  his  room 
was  cleaned  more  than  once  a  week ;  but  he 
sat  down  again  and  folded  his  hands,  and  said 
that  he  was  of  the  same  opinion  as  before  and 
saw  no  reason  why  the  unfortunate  young 
man  should  not  be  nursed  by  Miss  Esther. 

"  No  more  do  I,"  said  Katharine.  "  What 's 
the  difference  between  nursing  Shepherd  Home 
through  bronchitis  and  nursing  Mr.  Wilton 

s—J  O 

with  a  broken  leg,  except  that  Mr.  Wilton  is 
presumably  not  so  unwashed  ?  I  never  can 
see  why  the  poor  people  should  have  the  mo- 
nopoly of  impropriety,  as  well  as  of  the  Scrip- 

28 


The  Making  of  a  Prig 

tures.  Besides,  you  can  easily  reduce  him  to 
the  level  of  a  villager  by  reading  the  Psalms 
to  him  every  day.  That  would  make  you 
feel  quite  proper,  would  n't  it,  auntie  ?  And 
I  dare  say  he  would  n't  mind  it  much,  when 
he  got  used  to  it." 

"  Your  profanity,"  said  her  aunt  severely, 
"  is  becoming  perfectly  outrageous.  If  you 
were  sometimes  to  say  a  few  words  of  reproof 
to  your  own  daughter,  Cyril,  instead  of  dream- 
ing your  life  away  —  but  there,  I  must  go 
and  look  after  poor  Mr.  Wilton  !  I  wonder 
whether  he  likes  his  eggs  boiled  or  scram- 
bled ? "  she  added  doubtfully.  For  Miss 
Esther  was  one  of  those  women  who  reserve 
the  best  side  of  their  nature  for  the  people  who 
have  no  real  claim  upon  them ;  and  she  took 
little  interest  in  any  one  who  was  neither  poor 
nor  afflicted.  The  unpractical  temperament 
of  the  Rector  both  astonished  and  chafed  her, 
and  she  had  nothing  but  a  fretful  endurance 
for  her  high-spirited  niece,  in  whom  a  natural 
longing  for  action  and  an  inordinate  sense  of 
humour  were  fast  producing  a  spirit  of  revolt 
and  cynicism.  But  an  invalid,  who  was  thus 
thrown  suddenly  into  her  power,  appealed 
strongly  to  the  Rector's  sister ;  and  her  diffi- 
dence had  entirely  disappeared  by  the  time 

29 


The  Making  of  a  Prig 

she  had  gone  through  all  the  objections  that 
propriety  impelled  her  to  raise. 

"  I  feel  quite  thankful,"  she  said,  smiling 
blandly,  "  that  the  poor  fellow  has  fallen  into 
such  good  hands." 

"  So  do  I,"  remarked  Katharine,  as  the 
door  closed.  "It  will  be  all  the  better  for 
your  paper  on  the  local  antiquities,  won't  it, 
daddy  ?  Daddy  dear^  just  think  of  all  the 
time  we  shall  have  to  ourselves,  now  that 
she  's  got  Mr.  Wilton  on  her  hands  !  Poor 
Mr.  Wilton  !  Let 's  come  and  clear  Dorcas 
out  of  the  library  and  look  at  what  you  've 
done,  shall  we  ?  Come  along,  daddy,  quick  !  " 

The  Rector  stroked  her  long  hair,  with  a 
doubtful  look  on  his  face. 

"  I  am  afraid,  Kitty,  I  do  not  look  after 
you  as  I  should,"  he  said.  "I  am  a  bad  old 
sinner,  eh  ?  " 

"  That 's  why  I  love  you  so.  You  are  a 
brick  !  "  exclaimed  Katharine. 

And  she  dragged  him  impetuously  out  of 
the  room. 


CHAPTER    III 

MEANWHILE,  Paul  Wilton  lay  wearily  in  the 
old-fashioned  guest-room  over  the  porch.  The 
pain  of  his  broken  limb  had  kept  him  awake 
most  of  the  night ;  and  now  that  the  suffering 
was  less  the  discomfort  remained,  and  he  felt 
no  more  inclined  to  sleep  than  before.  With 
a  kind  of  mechanical  interest  he  had  watched 
the  pale  light  on  his  striped  blind  grow  deep 
and  red,  and  then  again  pale  and  bright,  as  the 
sun  came  up  over  the  hills.  His  restlessness 
increased  as  the  time  wore  on  ;  the  sensation 
of  being  unable  to  move  began  to  grate  on  his 
nerves,  and  he  wished  impatiently  that  some- 
thing would  break  the  stillness  of  the  house, 
and  awaken  the  people  in  it  who  were  sleeping 
so  unreasonably.  He  raised  himself  on  his 
elbow  as  a  light  step  came  along  the  passage 
outside,  and  sank  back  again  with  a  feeling 
of  disappointment  when  it  passed  his  door, 
and  went  downstairs  into  the  garden.  In 
reality  it  was  much  earlier  than  he  thought; 
and  it  was  still  some  time  longer  before  the 


The  Making  of  a  Prig 

usual  early  morning  sounds  testified  to  the 
existence  of  a  maid.  He  heard  the  stairs  being 
swept,  and  suffered  silently  as  the  broom  was 
struck  clumsily  against  his  wall  in  its  down- 
ward course.  Then  the  front  door  was  un- 
bolted with  a  good  deal  of  noise,  and  a  few 
mats  were  banged  together  in  the  open  air,  and 
something  was  done  with  the  door  scraper.  A 
conversation,  held  across  the  lawn  with  Jim, 
had  the  effect  of  an  altercation,  though  it  was 
in  reality  only  an  inquiry  on  the  subject  of 
milk,  shouted  shrilly  in  broad  dialect.  Later 
on,  came  the  welcome  crackle  of  a  fire  and  the 
clatter  of  teacups ;  and  a  smell  of  hot  bacon 
began  to  pervade  the  air. 

"  At  all  events,  that  means  breakfast,"  mut- 
tered Paul.  "  It  is  not  to  be  hoped  that  it 
will  be  worth  eating,  but  at  least  it  will  bring  a 
human  being  into  the  room.  I  wonder  why 
ordinary  people  never  have  any  ideas  for  break- 
fast beyond  hot  bacon  !  It  is  sure  to  be  in 
thick  chunks,  too,  and  salt,  oh,  very  salt! 
Don't  I  know  it  ?  It  recalls  my  childhood. 
There  will  be  eggs,  too,  —  there  always  were 
eggs  when  we  had  visitors  ;  and  bad  coffee 
made  by  unaccustomed  hands,  also  because 
there  is  a  visitor.  I  know  that  coffee  too.  On 
the  whole,  it  is  wiser  to  keep  to  tea  in  strange 

32 


The  Making  of  a  Prig 

places  of  this  sort,  although  one  knows  before- 
hand that  it  will  be  thick,  and  black,  and  flavour- 
less. I  know  the  tea,  best  of  all.  In  quite 
decent  houses,  one  gets  that  tea." 

Nobody  came  to  him,  although  there  were 
other  voices  about  the  house  now;  and  he 
turned  from  his  dissertation  on  food  to  a  study 
of  the  pictures  on  the  wall.  They  were  of  the 
class  that  had  also  been  known  to  him  in  his 
childhood ;  and  he  smiled  sardonically  as  he 
glanced  at  the  two  texts  hidden  in  a  maze  of 
illumination,  and  the  German  print  of  John  the 
Baptist  standing  in  layers  of  solid  water,  and 
the  faded  photograph  of  a  baby  girl  with  tan- 
gled curls  and  a  saucy  mouth.  Something  in 
the  shape  of  that  mouth  suggested  the  shadowy 
events  of  last  night  to  his  mind,  and  brought 
with  them  the  vague  recollection  of  a  girl's 
face  looking  curiously  down  at  him,  and  the 
pleasurable  sensation  of  being  supported  by 
two  firm,  soft  hands.  He  rather  liked  dwell- 
ing on  that  part  of  last  night's  adventures, 
until  a  real  twinge  of  pain  in  his  leg  recalled 
also  the  less  pleasant  episodes,  and  he  shud- 
dered as  he  remembered  the  horrors  of  his 
transit  from  the  chalk  pit  to  the  Rectory. 

"  I  hate  being  in  pain ;  it  is  so  vulgar,"  he 
muttered  distastefully  ;  and  a  dread  crossed  his 
3  33 


The  Making  of  a  Prig 

mind  lest  his  suffering  should  become  more 
than  he  could  bear  with  dignity. 

A  timid  knock  came  outside  the  door,  and 
the  maid  entered  to  draw  up  the  blind.  She 
looked  clumsy,  and  Paul  sighed.  She  sidled 
along  the  wall  to  the  door  again  as  soon  as  she 
could,  and  asked  shyly  when  he  would  have 
his  breakfast. 

"  As  soon  as  you  like ;  and  —  er  —  Mary, 
would  you  kindly  give  me  that  coat?  -What's 
the  time  ?  And  is  it  a  fine  day  ?  "  asked  Paul 
hurriedly.  He  was  almost  childish  in  his 
anxiety  to  keep  her  in  the  room  for  another 
moment.  But  to  be  called  by  the  cook's  name 
so  far  confused  her  that  she  vanished  precipi- 
tately ;  and  Paul  smiled,  a  little  more  cynically 
than  before,  and  returned  to  his  observations 
of  the  pictures.  Just  then  he  heard  the  end 
of  the  conversation  between  the  boy  and  girl, 
under  his  window,  and  was  amused  at  his  own 
share  in  their  quarrel. 

"  Anyhow,  if  that  young  woman  is  going  to 
be  about,  it  may  not  be  so  bad,  after  all,"  he 
reflected. 

He  was  reduced  to  despondency  again,  how- 
ever, by  the  arrival  of  the  breakfast,  which 
fully  realised  his  expectations.  For  one  who 
professed  to  have  a  wide  grasp  of  life,  Paul 

34 


The  Making  of  a  Prig 

Wilton  was  singularly  affected  by  trifles.  His 
spirits  were  not  raised  when  he  found  who  his 
nurse  was  to  be ;  and,  competent  as  Miss 
Esther  soon  proved  herself,  he  remained  con- 
vinced that  the  child  with  the  joyous  laugh 
who  made  so  much  merriment  about  the  house, 
would  have  suited  him  far  better.  And  again, 
he  was  amused  at  his  interest  in  some  one 
whom  he  had  hardly  seen,  and  who  would  prob- 
ably turn  out  to  be  an  undeveloped  school- 
girl, some  one  who  would  ride  roughshod 
over  his  susceptibilities,  and  even  fail  to  under- 
stand his  feelings  about  things.  It  seemed 
impossible  to  him  that  he  should  be  able  to 
endure  any  one  who  did  not  understand  his 
feelings  about  things.  She  might  be  plain, 
too  ;  women  with  fascinating  voices  were  often 
extremely  plain.  And  if  she  were  neither 
mature  nor  attractive,  there  could  be  no  object 
in  giving  her  another  thought ;  for  woman, 
to  Paul  Wilton,  was  merely  an  interesting 
necessity,  —  like  his  food  ;  something  to  fill 
up  the  gaps  that  were  not  occupied  by  work, 
or  art,  or  any  of  the  real  things  of  life ; 
and  something,  therefore,  to  be  taken  in  as 
delicate  a  manner  as  possible.  He  liked  to 
talk  to  beautiful  women  in  picturesque  sur- 
roundings, —  to  play  on  their  emotions,  and 

35 


The  Making  of  a  Prig 

to  dally  with  their  wit ;  but  the  women  had 
to  be  beautiful,  and  their  setting  had  to  be 
appropriate. 

"  Please  do  not  trouble  to  wait,"  he  said  to 
Miss  Esther  in  the  afternoon,  when  he  found 
her  preparing  to  sit  with  him.  "  I  shall  be 
quite  happy  if  you  will  have  the  goodness  to 
give  me  the  paper  and  the  cigarette  case. 
Thanks." 

When  she  had  gone,  having  lacked  the 
courage  to  tell  him  that  tobacco  smoke  had 
never  yet  polluted  the  sacred  mustiness  of  the 
best  spare  room,  Paul  lay  back  with  a  sense 
of  relief,  and  began  to  review  his  situation 
gloomily. 

"  How  I  could  have  made  such  an  ass  of 
myself,  I  don't  know,"  he  murmured.  "  Foist- 
ing myself  on  complete  strangers  for  six  or 
seven  weeks  at  least !  And  such  strangers, 
too  !  Good  Lord,  how  shocked  the  dear  lady 
looked  when  I  said  I  had  n't  a  relation  left 
who  cared  a  hang  whether  I  was  alive  or 
dead.  I  must  tell  her,  as  an  antidote,  that  my 
father  was  a  parson ;  I  have  known  that  to  take 
effect  in  the  most  ungodly  circles.  Perhaps,  if 
I  could  swear  I  should  feel  better.  But  I  am 
not  a  swearing  man  ;  besides,  she  might  leave 
me  to  that  painfully  dull  maid  if  I  did.  And 

36 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

that  would  be  a  pity,"  he  added  reflectively ; 
"  for,  at  least,  she  does  know  how  to  make  a 
fellow  as  comfortable  as  a  fractured  leg  will  let 
him  be." 

A  sudden  shoot  of  pain  made  him  turn  his 
head  wearily  on  one  side.  He  had  told  the 
doctor,  only  that  morning,  that  it  was  nothing, 
and  that  he  did  not  suffer  much  ;  and  then  had 
been  unreasonably  disappointed  at  the  profes- 
sional verdict  that  it  was  a  simple  fracture,  and 
presented  no  complications.  He  would  have 
liked  to  be  an  interesting  case,  at  least. 

"  I  wonder  if  I  am  likely  to  get  a  glimpse  of 
that  jolly  little  girl,"  he  went  on,  looking  idly 
at  the  faded  photograph  opposite.  "It  is 
probably  the  one  who  steadied  my  head  in 
the  dark,  last  night ;  the  one  who  laughs, 
too.  A  Philistine  place  like  this  could  never 
produce  two  of  them.  However,  I  shall  never 
find  out  as  long  as  I  am  nursed  by  that  dragon. 
And  after  all,  why  trouble  about  it?  It  shows 
what  a  baleful  effect  idleness  can  have  upon  a 
man,  when  an  unsophisticated  parson's  daughter 
with  a  jolly  laugh  can  —  hullo  !  " 

He  heard  voices  on  the  landing,  and  listened 
eagerly.  There  was  the  sound  of  a  scuffle  and 
a  stifled  laugh,  and  some  one  shook  the  door 
by  falling  clumsily  against  it. 

37 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  Come  in,  do  !  "  shouted  Paul  desperately, 
and  the  door  opened  with  a  jerk. 

"  I  say,  did  we  disturb  you,  or  anything  ? 
I  'm  beastly  sorry ;  but  Kitty  would  rot  so, 
and  I  could  n't  help  it,  really.  And,  I  say, 
I  'm  awfully  sorry  you  're  so  hit  up." 

It  was  Ted,  apologetic  and  self-conscious. 
Paul  smiled  encouragingly ;  it  was  at  least 
some  one  to  talk  to,  even  if  it  was  a  boy  under 
twenty,  for  whose  kind  he  had  as  a  rule  little 
sympathy.  He  could  see  there  was  some  one 
else  too,  on  the  landing  outside ;  so  he  smiled 
a  little  more.  It  pleased  him  to  have  his  curi- 
osity satisfied,  though  perhaps  he  would  not 
have  liked  it  to  be  called  curiosity. 

"  You  see,  Kitty  will  play  so  poorly,"  pur- 
sued Ted,  plunging  his  hands  in  his  pockets 
to  give  himself  more  confidence.  "  I  should  n't 
have  dreamt  of  bothering  you  like  this,  if  it 
hadn't  been  for  Kitty." 

"  I  am  quite  content  to  believe  that  it  was 
the  fault  of  Miss  Kitty,  whose  acquaintance  I 
have  not  the  honour  of  possessing,"  said  Paul 
gravely.  "  But  won't  you  come  in  a  little 
further,  and  explain  matters  ?  " 

Ted  came  in  a  good  deal  further,  just  then, 
assisted  by  an  unexpected  push  between  his 
shoulders. 

38 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  It 's  so  poor  of  Kitty  ;  and  it  is  n't  my 
fault,  I  swear  it  is  n't ! "  said  Ted,  in  an  in- 
jured tone.  "  You  see,  she  wants  me  to  say 
—  Oh,  hang,  Kit,  do  let  a  fellow  explain  !  Well, 
she  says  that  —  that — well,  she  wants  to  come 
in  too,  don't  you  see  ?  She  does  n't  see  why 
she  should  have  to  go  and  talk  to  horrid  old 
men  in  the  village,  when  they  won't  let  her 
come  in  and  talk  to  you ;  at  least,  that 's 
what  she  says.  And  she  says  it's  all  rotten 
humbug  —  Well,  you  know  you  did  !  But 
Miss  Esther  will  about  kill  me  when  she  finds 
it  out.  Kitty  never  thinks  of  that,  she  's  so 
poor." 

Paul  smiled  again,  partly  at  himself  for  being 
young  enough  to  appreciate  the  childishness  of 
the  situation. 

"  Where  is  Miss  Esther  ?  "  he  asked,  like  a 
man,  wisely. 

"  Oh,  she  's  out  right  enough  ;    but  still  —  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Paul  reflectively,  "  I  recognise 
that  there  are  still  difficulties  in  the  way.  But 
don't  you  think,  as  I  am  decidedly  as  much 
afflicted  as  the  other  horrid  old  men  you  men- 
tioned, and  as  Miss  Esther  is  out,  that  —  we 
might  all  agree  to  vote  it  rotten  humbug  ?  Just 
for  a  few  minutes,  you  know !  " 

And  Katharine,  who  had  been  listening 
39 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

anxiously  to  every  word,  slipped  into  the 
room  at  this  point  of  the  negotiations,  and 
closed  the  door ;  nodded  cheerfully  to  Paul 
as  though  she  had  known  him  all  her  life,  and 
dropped  sideways  on  the  chair  at  the  end  of 
his  bed. 

"  I  knew  you  would  n't  mind,"  she  said. 
"  Ted  declared  you  would ;  but  Ted 's  so 
awfully  dense  sometimes,  is  n't  he  ?  " 

Paul  was  willing  to  admit  that,  on  this  occa- 
sion, Ted  had  been  remarkably  dense  ;  but  he 
only  murmured  some  commonplace  about  the 
correctness  of  her  judgment,  and  the  honour  he 
felt  at  her  discrimination. 

"  Oh,  I  knew  !  "  said  Katharine  confidently. 
"  I  am  never  wrong  about  people.  Ted  is. 
He  makes  fearful  hashes  about  people ;  I 
always  have  to  tell  him  who  is  to  be  trusted, 
and  who  is  n't." 

"  I  should  like  to  know,"  observed  Paul, 
"  how  you  manage  to  know  so  much  about 
people  whom  you  have  never  seen  before, — 
myself,  for  instance  !  " 

"  But  I  have  seen  you  before  !  Oh,  I  for- 
got ;  of  course,  you  did  n't  know.  I  was  with 
daddy  last  night  when  he  came  to  fetch  you. 
Don't  you  remember  ?  I  suppose  you  were 
too  bad  to  notice  much." 

40 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

"  That  must  have  been  it,"  assented  Paul. 
"  I  just  remember  some  one  supporting  my 
head,  or  it  may  have  been  my  shoulders  —  " 

"  It  was  your  head.  That  was  me  !  "  cried 
Katharine,  with  animation.  "  Was  n't  Ted 
jealous  when  I  told  him,  —  that 's  all  !  " 

"  I  was  n't,"  said  Ted.  "  But  it  was  just 
like  Kitty.  Girls  always  do  have  all  the 
luck." 

"  I  am  glad,"  said  Paul  drily,  "  that  at  least 
one  of  you  was  fortunate  enough  to  view  my 
discomfiture." 

Ted  laughed,  but  Katharine  became  sud- 
denly thoughtful. 

"  I  was  very  sorry  for  you,  I  was  really," 
she  said. 

"  Oh,  no,  excuse  me,  —  merely  interested," 
said  Paul. 

Katharine  reflected  again. 

"  Perhaps  I  was  ;  how  caddish  of  me  ! "  she 
said,  and  looked  at  him  doubtfully.  Paul  raised 
his  eyebrows ;  to  be  taken  seriously  by  a 
woman,  at  such  an  early  stage  of  her  acquaint- 
ance, was  a  new  experience  to  him. 

"  Oh,  please,"  he  exclaimed,  laughing,  "  don't 
be  truthful  whatever  you  are  !  It 's  much 
more  charming  to  think  that  you  were  sorry 
for  me." 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

Katharine  still  seemed  puzzled.  She  turned 
to  Ted  instinctively,  and  he  came  to  her 
rescue. 

"  She  thought  you  were  awfully  plucky  and 
all  that ;  she  told  me  so.  I  was  rather  sick 
about  it,  of  course ;  but,  after  all,  it  was  n't 
really  worth  minding  because  you  were  hit  up 
so  completely,  you  see." 

"  You  are  a  singularly  brutal  pair  of  young 
people,"  observed  Paul,  glancing  from  one  to 
the  other.  "  I  should  like  you  to  have  the 
feel  of  my  leg  for  half  an  hour.  I  fancy  you 
would  find  yourselves  '  hit  up,'  as  you  are 
pleased  to  call  it." 

"  Oh,  but  we  're  not  a  bit  brutal,"  objected 
Katharine.  "  Ted  never  can  help  saying  what 
he  thinks  at  the  moment,  —  that's  how  it  is. 
It's  because  he  shows  all  his  feelings,  don't 
you  see  ?  " 

"  You  must  n't  think  Kitty  is  unfeeling  be- 
cause she  does  n't  say  things,"  continued  Ted. 
"  She  hates  spoofing  people,  and  she  never 
says  things  she  does  n't  mean.  She  does  n't 
always  say  them  when  she  does  mean  them  ; 
it 's  rather  rough  on  a  fellow  sometimes,  I 
think,"  he  added  feelingly. 

The  garden  gate  swung  to,  and  they  sprang 
to  their  feet  simultaneously. 

42 


The    Making   of  a   Prig 

"  Shall  we  scoot  ?  "  asked  Ted,  who  seemed 
the  more  apprehensive  of  the  two. 

"  I  suppose  so.  Bother  !  "  said  Katharine 
regretfully.  Ted  was  already  gone,  but  she 
still  lingered.  The  flying  visit  to  Paul,  in- 
stead of  satisfying  her  curiosity  about  him,  had 
only  roused  it  still  more ;  and  she  sauntered 
half  absently  towards  him,  without  the  least 
pretence  of  being  in  a  hurry  to  go. 

"  Good-bye,"  she  said,  and  put  her  hand 
into  his.  It  was  the  first  time  she  had  shown 
any  signs  of  shyness,  and  Paul  began  to  like 
her  better. 

"  Not  good-bye,"  he  said  lightly.  "  You 
will  come  in  again,  won't  you  ?  We  shall 
have  a  good  lot  to  tell  each  other." 

"  Shall  we  ?  " 

"  Well,  don't  you  think  so  ?  "  He  dropped 
her  hand  and  laughed.  It  seemed  absurd  that 
this  child,  who  behaved  generally  like  a  charm- 
ing tomboy,  should  persist  in  taking  him  seri- 
ously when  he  merely  wanted  to  frivol. 

"  I  '11  come  if  it  won't  bore  you,"  said  Kath- 
arine shortly.  She  was  wondering  what  there 
was  to  laugh  at. 

"  Can  you  write  a  tolerable  hand  ?  "  he 
asked. 

"  I  write  all  daddy's  things  for  him." 
43 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  Then  we  '11  see  if  something  can't  be  ar- 
ranged," he  began.  He  congratulated  himself 
on  his  tact  in  helping  to  gratify  her  evident 
wish  to  see  him  again  ;  but  she  baffled  him 
once  more  by  suddenly  brightening  up,  and 
seizing  upon  his  suggestion  before  he  had  half 
formed  it. 

"  Could  I  be  your  secretary,  do  you  mean  ? 
Why,  of  course  I  could.  What  fun  !  Aunt 
Esther  ?  Oh,  that 's  nothing.  /  will  manage 
Aunt  Esther.  Good-bye." 

She  managed  Aunt  Esther  very  effectually 
at  supper  time,  by  calmly  announcing  her  in- 
tention of  becoming  Mr.  Wilton's  secretary. 
And  the  Rector's  sister,  who  was  a  curious  com- 
pound of  conventional  dogma  and  worldly 
ignorance,  and  knew  into  the  bargain  that  it 
was  of  no  use  to  withstand  her  headstrong 
niece,  gave  in  to  her  newest  whim  with  a  bad 
grace. 

"  Do  as  you  like ;  I  am  no  longer  the 
head  of  the  house,  I  suppose,"  she  observed 
fretfully. 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  are,  Aunt  Esther  ! "  retorted 
Katharine  with  provoking  cheerfulness.  "  1 
only  want  to  be  Mr.  Wilton's  secretary." 

Paul  was  not  so  elated  as  she  had  expected 
to  find  him,  when  she  walked  into  his  room  in 

44 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

Miss  Esther's  wake  on  the  following  day, 
and  told  him  that  she  had  gained  her  point 
and  was  ready  to  become  his  secretary.  Being 
such  a  responsive  creature  herself,  she  always  ex- 
pected every  one  else  to  share  her  emotions. 

"  Are  n't  you  glad  ?  "  she  asked  him  anx- 
iously. 

Not  being  able  to  explain  that  what  he 
wanted  was  not  so  much  a  secretary  as  a 
pretty  girl  to  amuse  him,  he  said  with  his  usual 
smile  that  he  was  delighted,  and  proceeded  to 
dictate  various  uninteresting  letters  of  a  busi- 
ness-like character. 

"  So  you  live  in  the  Temple,"  she  observed, 
as  she  folded  up  a  letter  to  his  housekeeper. 
"  Is  n't  it  a  gloriously  romantic  place  to  live 
in?" 

"  It  is  convenient,"  said  Paul  briefly.  And 
that  was  all  the  conversation  they  had  that  day. 

He  wanted  no  letters  written  the  next  day, 
and  she  read  the  paper  to  him  instead.  But 
Miss  Esther  stayed  in  the  room  all  the  time, 
with  her  knitting,  and  there  was  no  conversa- 
tion that  day  either.  On  the  third  day,  how- 
ever, her  aunt  was  wanted  in  the  parish  ;  and 
she  deputed  the  Rector  to  take  her  place  in 
the  sick  room.  She  might  have  known  that 
he  would  forget  all  about  it,  directly  she  was 

45 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

gone ;  but  Miss  Esther  always  acted  on  the 
assumption  that  her  brother  possessed  all  the 
excellent  qualities  she  wished  him  to  have,  and 
it  never  occurred  to  her  that  he  would  spend 
the  afternoon  in  finishing  his  paper  on  the 
antiquities  of  the  county. 

"  Aunt  Esther  has  gone  to  see  a  poor  woman 
who  has  lost  her  baby.  I  never  can  imagine 
why  a  woman  who  has  lost  her  baby  should 
be  visited  just  because  she  is  poor.  Can 
you  ?  "  said  Katharine,  as  she  settled  herself  on 
the  spare-room  window-seat  with  her  writing 
materials. 

"  No,"  said  Paul,  concealing  his  satisfaction 
that  Miss  Esther  was  of  a  different  opinion. 
"  You  need  n't  bother  about  writing  any  letters 
to-day,  thanks,"  he  continued  carelessly  ;  "  and 
I  don't  think  I  want  to  hear  the  paper,  either." 

"  Don't  you  ?  oh  !  "  said  Katharine,  look- 
ing disappointed.  "  Then  there  's  nothing  I 
can  do  for  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes.  You  can  talk,  if  you  will,"  said 
Paul,  smiling.  "  Come  and  sit  on  the  chair  at 
the  end  of  the  bed,  where  you  sat  the  first  day 
you  came  in.  I  can  see  you,  then." 

"  It  is  ever  so  much  nicer  to  see  the  person 
you  are  talking  to,  isn't  it?"  observed  Katha- 
rine, as  she  obeyed  his  suggestion. 

46 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

"  Much  nicer,"  assented  Paul,  though  it  had 
never  occurred  to  him  to  suggest  that  Miss 
Esther  should  occupy  that  particular  chair. 
"  Now  then,  talk,  please  !  " 

Katharine  made  a  sign  of  dismay. 

"  I  can't,"  she  said.     "  You  begin." 

"  Who  is  your  favourite  poet  ?  "  asked  Paul 
solemnly.  She  disconcerted  him  by  taking  his 
question  seriously,  and  he  had  to  listen  to  her 
enthusiastic  eulogies  of  several  favourite  poets, 
before  he  had  an  opportunity  of  explaining 
himself. 

She  detected  him  in  the  act  of  suppressing  a 
yawn,  and  she  stopped  suddenly,  in  the  middle 
of  a  sentence. 

"  I  believe  I  am  boring  you  dreadfully. 
Shall  I  go  ? "  she  asked.  The  colour  had 
come  into  her  cheeks,  and  her  voice  had  a 
note  of  distress  in  it. 

"  I  want  you  to  tell  me  something,  first," 
was  his  unexpected  reply.  "  Do  you  talk 
about  poetry  to  young  Morton  ?  " 

"  Ted  ?  Why,  no,  of  course  not.  What  an 
awful  reflection  !  Ted  is  n't  a  bit  poetic,  not  a 
little  bit ;  and  he  would  scoff  like  anything.  I 
have  never  talked  about  the  things  I  really 
like  to  anybody  before  ;  not  even  to  daddy, 
much." 

47 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

This  was  a  little  dangerous,  and  the  tom- 
boy daughter  of  the  parson  was  not  the  kind 
of  personality  that  was  likely  to  make  the  dan- 
ger fascinating.  And  Paul's  first  impulse  was 
to  wince  at  the  unstudied  frankness  of  her  re- 
mark ;  but  four  days  of  seclusion  had  been 
exceedingly  chastening,  and  the  flattery  that 
underlay  her  words  was  not  unpleasing  to 
him. 

"  Then  what  made  you  suppose  /  cared 
about  poetry,  eh  ?  "  he  asked  deliberately. 

"  Why,"  said  Katharine,  staring  at  him, 
"  you  began  it,  don't  you  remember  ?  I 
thought  you  wanted  me  to  tell  you  what  I 
thought." 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  I  am  aware  of  that.  But  don't 
you  think  we  have  talked  enough  about  poetry 
for  one  day  ? "  said  Paul,  half  closing  his  eyes. 
He  was  already  regretting  his  stupidity  in  ex- 
pecting her  to  understand  him. 

"  How  awfully  funny  you  are !  First  you 
say  —  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Paul,  as  patiently  as  he  could, 
"  I  know.  Don't  let  us  say  any  more  about 
it.  Supposing  you  were  to  talk  to  me  now  as 
you  would  talk  to  young  Morton,  for  instance ! " 

Katharine  shook  her  head  doubtfully. 

"  I  don't  think  I  could.  You  're  not  like 
48 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

Ted ;  you  don't  like  the  same  sort  of  things. 
You  're  not  like  me,  either." 

Paul  smiled  grimly. 

"  We  're  both  the  same  in  reality,  Miss 
Kitty.  Only,  you  are  focussing  it  from  one 
end,  and  I  from  another.  I  mean,  you  are  too 
abominably  young  and  I  am  too  abominably 
old,  for  conversation.  We  shall  have  to  keep 
to  the  favourite  poets,  after  all." 

Katharine  had  come  round  to  the  side  of  the 
bed,  and  was  regarding  him  critically,  with  a 
very  serious  look  on  her  face. 

"What  is  the  matter?  "  she  asked  abruptly. 
"  I  hate  people  to  say  they  are  old  —  when 
they  are  nice  people.  It  makes  me  feel  hor- 
rid; I  don't  like  it.  I  never  let  daddy  talk 
about  growing  old ;  it  gives  me  a  sort  of  cold 
feel,  don't  you  know  ?  I  wish  you  would  n't. 
Besides,  I  am  not  young,  either;  I  am  nearly 
nineteen.  I  know  I  look  much  younger,  be- 
cause I  won't  put  my  hair  up ;  but  my  skirts 
are  nearly  to  the  ground.  What  makes  you 
say  I  am  too  young  to  be  talked  to  ? " 

"  I  said  you  were  too  young  for  conversa- 
tion. It  is  not  quite  the  same  thing,  is  it?  " 

"  Isn't  it?  "  said  Katharine,  and  she  looked 
away  out  of  the  window  for  a  full  minute. 
What  she  saw  there  she  could  not  have  told, 
4  49 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

but  it  was  something  that  had  never  been  there 
before.  When  she  brought  her  eyes  round 
again  to  his  face,  the  serious  look  had  gone  out 
of  them,  and  they  were  twinkling  with  fun. 
"  I  know  !  "  she  laughed.  "  Let 's  talk  without 
any  conversation." 

"  She 's  the  same  woman,  after  all,"  was 
Paul's  reflection. 

They  did  not  mention  the  favourite  poets 
again ;  but  they  had  no  difficulty  for  the  rest 
of  the  afternoon  in  finding  something  to  talk 
about.  It  was  getting  late  when  the  garden 
gate  gave  its  usual  warning,  and  Katharine  got 
up  with  a  sigh. 

"  When  shall  I  see  you  again  ?  "  he  asked. 
They  had  not  gone  through  the  formality  of 
shaking  hands,  this  time. 

"  When  Aunt  Esther  has  not  gone  to  see  a 
poor  woman  who  has  lost  her  baby,"  said 
Katharine,  laughing. 

"  Nonsense  !  we  will  keep  the  letters  and 
the  newspaper  for  that  kind  of  visit.  Won't 
some  one  else  die,  don't  you  think,  so  that  we 
can  have  another  talk  ? 

"  I  '11  see,"  said  Katharine,  which  could  not 
strictly  be  called  an  answer  to  his  question. 
But  it  fully  satisfied  Paul. 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE  weeks  crept  on ;  and  Paul  Wilton,  from 
being  merely  an  object  of  interest  and  pity, 
gradually  became  the  greatest  mystery  in  the 
neighbourhood.  Such  a  reputation  was  en- 
tirely unsought  on  his  part,  although,  had  he 
been  aware  of  it,  the  probability  is  that  it 
would  not  have  been  wholly  unpleasing  to 
him.  For  it  had  been  his  pose  through  life 
to  mystify  people,  —  not  by  deliberately  assum- 
ing to  be  what  he  was  not,  but  by  strenuously 
avoiding  any  appearance  of  what  he  was ;  and 
his  indifference,  which  was  what  people  first 
noticed  in  him,  was  entirely  feigned  for  the 
purpose  of  concealing  that  his  real  attitude 
towards  life  was  a  critical  one.  It  was  not  un- 
reasonable that  a  man  of  this  calibre,  suddenly 
placed  in  a  quiet  country  parish,  should  end 
in  making  some  sort  of  a  sensation  there. 
Miss  Esther  from  the  beginning  had  suffered 
much,  and  silently ;  but  a  man  who  had  a 
father  in  Crockford  and  a  mother  in  Debrett, 

51 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

was  to  be  forgiven  a  good  deal,  and  she  felt 
compelled  to  overlook  even  the  ash  of  his 
cigarettes,  and  his  French  novels,  when  she 
found  them  both  on  the  chaste  counterpane  of 
the  best  spare-room  bed.  But  there  were 
others  in  Ivingdon  who,  not  having  much  of 
a  pedigree  themselves,  were  inclined  to  under- 
value the  importance  of  one;  and  some  of 
these,  the  doctor,  for  instance,  and  Peter 
Bunce  the  churchwarden,  came  to  the  Rector 
for  enlightenment. 

"  Eh,  but  he  doan't  give  hisself  away  much, 
do  he,  now  ? "  said  the  churchwarden,  jerking 
his  thumb  in  the  direction  of  the  lame  man, 
who  had  just  swung  himself  past  the  window 
on  his  crutches.  "  He  be  proper  close,  I 
reckon,  eh  ? " 

"  He  is  a  very  intelligent  young  man,"  said 
the  Rector  vaguely.  "  He  has  quite  an  appre- 
ciation of  Oriental  china." 

It  was  Sunday  afternoon,  and  the  Rector 
was  dispensing  whiskey  and  cigars  to  his 
guests,  with  a  prodigality  that  might  have  been 
attributed  to  Miss  Esther's  absence  at  the 
Sunday  school.  There  was  an  ease,  too,  about 
their  manners  and  their  conversation,  which 
was  to  be  traced  to  the  same  cause. 

"  I  suppose  he 's  beastly  clever,  and  all  that, 
52 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

is  n't  he  ? "  asked  Ted  morosely.  He  was 
sitting  on  the  window  ledge,  a  convenient 
position  which  allowed  him  to  shout  occasional 
answers  to  the  questions  that  came  from  Katha- 
rine on  the  other  side  of  the  lawn.  Just  then, 
however,  she  was  joined  by  Paul ;  and  Ted 
knew  instinctively  that  he  would  have  no 
more  questions  to  answer  after  that. 

"  It  is  difficult  to  say  what  he  is,"  observed 
the  doctor.  "  You  can't  get  him  to  talk  ;  at 
least,  not  much.  Generally,  when  I  Ve  done 
all  the  professional  business,  he  relapses  into 
total  silence,  and  I  just  have  to  go ;  but  some- 
times he  is  inclined  to  be  chatty,  and  then  he 
makes  a  delightful  companion.  But  the  odd 
thing  is,  that  I  know  no  more  about  the  man 
himself  at  the  end  of  a  conversation  than  I  did 
at  the  beginning.  A  barrister,  did  you  say  he 
was  ?  That  accounts  for  the  judicial  manner, 
then ;  but  the  question  is,  what  is  there  be- 
hind it  all  ?  " 

No  one  seemed  to  have  an  answer  ready  to 
the  doctor's  question  ;  but  Peter  Bunce  took 
a  long  pull  at  the  whiskey,  and  brushed  the 
cigar  ash  from  his  capacious  waistcoat,  and 
attacked  the  subject  with  fresh  vigour. 

"  There  ain't  no  finding  out  anything  about 
no  one,  without  you  take  a  bit  o'  trouble,"  he 

53 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

remarked  wisely.  "  Mayhap  Mr.  Austen,  yon- 
der, might  know  a  something  more  than  us 
folk.  Has  n't  he  got  never  a  father,  now  ? 
There 's  a  won'erful  lot  to  be  gathered  from 
knowing  of  a  man's  father,  there  is.  Like 
enough  he 's  one  o'  they  London  folk,  as 
dare  n't  speak  aloud  for  fear  of  its  getting 
into  the  newspapers.  London  folk  is  mighty 
well  watched,  so  I  've  heard  ;  there  's  never 
a  moment's  peace  or  safety  in  London,  some 
say.  Mayhap  Mr.  Wilton's  father  is  a  Lon- 
don gen'leman,  now  !  " 

"  His  father  ?  "  said  the  Rector,  with  sudden 
enthusiasm.  "  His  father  was  something  short 
of  a  genius,  sir  !  He  is  the  best  authority  we 
have  on  the  numismatics  of  his  neighbourhood. 
Have  you  never  heard  of  Wilton's  '  Copper 
Tokens  '  ?  " 

"  Guess  we  have,  sir,  pretty  often,"  laughed 
Ted. 

The  Rector  looked  pathetic,  and  handed  him 
another  cigar,  with  an  apprehension  that  arose 
from  the  distant  clang  of  the  garden  gate. 

"  They  all  laugh  at  me,"  he  said  in  a  cheery 
tone  that  evoked  no  one's  pity.  "  I  'm  an  old 
fool ;  oh,  yes,  we  know  all  about  that.  But  if 
you  had  read  Wilton's  '  Copper  Tokens,'  you 
would  n't  want  to  know  who  this  man's  father 

54 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

was.  Let  me  see,  —  what  did  I  do  with  my 
Crockford  ? " 

"  I  expect  you  thought  it  was  a  hymn-book 
and  carted  it  up  to  church  this  morning,"  said 
Ted,  in  a  tone  of  forced  merriment.  He  still 
had  one  eye  on  the  lawn,  and  what  he  saw 
there  did  not  raise  his  spirits. 

"  Died  at  the  age  of  fifty-eight,  when  his 
son  was  a  lad  of  eighteen,  he  tells  me,"  con- 
tinued the  Rector.  "  That  was  the  same  date 
that  the  fifth  edition  of  the  '  Copper  Tokens ' 
was  issued,  some  ten  or  fifteen  years  ago  now. 
Bless  me,  how  time  flies  when  we  're  not  grow- 
ing any  younger ! " 

For  the  space  of  a  moment  or  two,  every- 
body present  was  occupied  with  a  mental  cal- 
culation. The  churchwarden  was  the  first  to 
give  up  the  attempt,  and  he  returned  doggedly 
to  the  original  topic. 

"  Age  ain't  got  nothing  to  do  with  it,"  he 
began,  heaving  a  sigh  of  relief  as  he  substi- 
tuted his  pipe  for  the  unusual  cigar.  "  'Cause 
why  ?  Some  folk  's  old  when  they  're  young, 
and  other  folk 's  young  when  they  're  old ; 
that 's  where  it  lays,  you  see." 

Nobody  did  see  ;  but  Ted  threw  in  a  vicious 
comment. 

"  The  Lord  only  knows  how  old  he  is, 
55 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

but  he  's  as  played  out  as  they  make  them," 
he  said. 

The  churchwarden  smiled,  without  under- 
standing, and  Cyril  Austen  was  too  deep  in 
his  Crockford  to  hear  what  was  passing ;  but 
the  doctor  had  been  young  himself,  not  so 
long  ago,  and  he  understood. 

"  Does  he  talk  about  leaving  ?  he  asked 
in  a  casual  manner,  directing  his  remark  to 
the  boy  on  the  window  ledge.  "  There 's 
nothing  to  keep  him  here  now,  as  far  as  I 
can  see." 

"  Don't  know  anything  about  him,"  said 
Ted,  with  a  studied  indifference.  "  I  should 
have  thought,  from  the  way  Kitty  speaks  of 
him,  that  London  could  n't  do  without  him 
for  another  moment.  What  they  all  see  in 
him,  I  don't  know.  I  suppose  it 's  because 
I  'm  such  a  rotten  ass,  but  he  seems  just  like 
anybody  else  to  me  as  far  as  brains  are  con- 
cerned. And  he  can't  talk  for  nuts.  But 
Miss  Esther  says  his  family  is  all  square ;  and 
that 's  enough  for  the  women,  I  suppose." 

The  doctor  nodded  sympathetically,  and 
Ted  laughed  as  if  he  were  a  little  ashamed 
of  taking  himself  so  seriously. 

"  He 's  going  to  make  himself  scarce  on 
Wednesday,"  he  continued,  rather  more  cor- 

56 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

dially.  "  He  's  got  a  pal  of  his  coming  down 
on  business  to-morrow,  and  they  're  going  off 
together.  Good  thing,  too,  eh  ?  Don't  know 
anything  about  the  pal  —  he  's  not  any  great 
shakes,  I  expect ;  but  Wilton  swears  he  knows 
a  lot  about  coins,  and  of  course  that  will  fetch 
the  Rector.  Fact  is,  this  place  is  getting  too 
clever  for  me.  There  's  Kitty,  who  rots  about 
poetry  and  things  till  it  makes  you  sick.  She 
never  used  to  ;  and  it 's  no  good  her  trying  to 
spoof  you  that  she  is  n't  altered,  because  she 
is,  —  and  all  for  the  sake  of  a  chap  like  Wilton, 
who  hardly  ever  opens  his  mouth  !  It 's  so 
poor,  is  n't  it  ?  " 

But  here  the  arrival  of  Miss  Esther  post- 
poned any  further  discussion  of  the  Rectory 
guest.  The  doctor  suddenly  remembered  that 
he  had  a  patient  to  visit,  and  took  an  abrupt 
departure ;  and  the  churchwarden  refused  a 
curt  invitation  to  tea,  and  went  hastily  after 
him.  Ted  lingered  a  moment  or  two,  without 
being  noticed  at  all ;  and  Miss  Esther,  having 
successfully  routed  her  brother's  guests,  went 
into  the  garden  to  disturb  the  conversation  on 
the  other  side  of  the  lawn. 

Some  two  days  later,  Paul  Wilton  and  his 
friend  from  London  were  pacing  up  and  down 
the  narrow  strip  of  gravel  path  that  skirted  the 

57 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

house  on  the  south  side.  In  the  absence  of 
Katharine,  who  had  induced  him  to  prolong 
the  period  of  helplessness,  as  he  would  have 
wished  to  prolong  any  other  pleasurable  sensa- 
tion, Paul  had  no  reason  to  play  the  invalid ; 
and,  except  for  an  occasional  limp,  there  was 
nothing  in  his  walk  to  indicate  lameness. 
There  was  the  usual  inexplicable  smile  on  his 
face,  however,  as  he  listened  to  the  bantering 
conversation  of  the  man  at  his  side,  and  occa- 
sionally interrupted  it  with  one  of  his  dry, 
terse  remarks.  His  companion  was  a  little 
elderly  man,  with  small  features  and  a  fresh 
complexion,  whose  geniality  was  the  result  of 
temperament  rather  than  of  principle,  and  whose 
conversation  was  toned  with  a  personal  refrain 
that  made  it  naively  amusing. 

"  That 's  a  pretty  child,  by  the  way,"  he  was 
saying,  with  the  air  of  a  connoisseur.  Katha- 
rine had  just  left  them,  and  they  could  hear  her 
laughing  with  her  father  indoors.  Paul  mur- 
mured an  assent,  and  went  on  smoking.  His 
companion  glanced  at  him  sideways,  and  smiled 
gently. 

"  Very  pretty,"  he  repeated,  "  but  ridicu- 
lously young.  And  who  is  the  charming  boy 
who  is  so  gone  on  her  ?  She  does  n't  see  it  a 
bit,  and  he  has  n't  the  pluck  to  tell  her.  I  'm 

58 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

quite  sorry  for  that  boy  ;  I  've  been  in  his  shoes 
many  a  time,  and  I  know  what  it  feels  like. 
He  's  got  a  lot  to  teach  her,  that 's  certain,  eh  ? 
Does  n't  interest  you,  I  suppose  !  If  it  had 
been  me,  now,  chained  here  with  a  broken  leg 
and  nothing  to  do,  with  an  idyllic  love  story 
going  on  under  my  eyes  —  ah,  well !  you  are 
not  made  that  way,  and  I  am  too  old,  I  sup- 
pose. Besides,  in  spite  of  her  charm,  she 
is  n't  exactly  my  style." 

"  No,"  said  Paul ;  "  she  is  not  your  style." 

"  All  the  same,  she  's  remarkably  pretty,  and 
I  'm  not  too  old  to  admire  a  pretty  woman," 
chuckled  his  companion.  "  'Pon  my  word, 
I  'm  quite  inclined  to  envy  that  boy.  Just 
imagine  a  veritable  woman,  still  thinking  her- 
self a  child,  with  a  delightful  boy  for  her  only 
companion,  and  no  one  to  stand  between  them  ! 
I  'd  have  given  worlds  for  such  a  chance  when 
I  was  his  age." 

"  But,  you  see,  you  are  not  his  age ;  so  it  is 
no  use  trying  to  cut  him  out.  Besides,  you 
ought  to  know  better,  Heaton,  at  your  time  of 
life,"  said  Paul,  in  a  jesting  manner  that  was  a 
little  strained.  Heaton  took  his  remark  rather 
as  a  compliment  than  otherwise. 

"  You  won't  alter  me,  my  boy ;  you  '11  find 
me  the  same  to  the  end  of  the  chapter,  —  so 

59 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

make  up  your  mind  to  that.  I  'm  not  ashamed 
of  it  either,  not  I  !  Seriously,  though,  I  'm 
quite  interested  in  our  little  love  story  yonder. 
I  should  like  to  help  that  boy.  Silly  ass  !  why 
doesn't  he  make  a  plunge  for  it?  He  isn't 
likely  to  have  a  rival." 

"  Perhaps  that  is  why  he  does  n't,"  observed 
Paul.  "  But  I  don't  see  why  we  should 
trouble  ourselves  about  it." 

"  That 's  where  you  're  so  cynical,"  com- 
plained Heaton.  "  These  little  affairs  always 
interest  me  intensely ;  they  bring  back  my 
youth  to  me,  and  remind  me  of  my  lost  happi- 
ness. Oh,  life !  what  you  once  held  for  me  ! 
And  now  it  is  all  gone,  buried  with  my  two 
sweet  wives,  and  I  am  left  alone  with  no  one 
to  care  what  becomes  of  me." 

His  eyes  were  moist  as  he  finished  speaking, 
and  Paul  walked  along  at  his  side  without 
offering  any  consolation.  He  would  have 
found  it  difficult  to  explain  why  he  had  chosen 
Laurence  Heaton  for  a  friend.  It  would  be 
more  correct  to  say,  perhaps,  that  Heaton  had 
chosen  him,  and  that  he  had  lacked  the  energy 
or  the  power  to  shake  him  off.  It  was  gener- 
ally true  that  his  sentimental  egotism  bored 
Paul  excessively,  and  yet  he  found  something 
to  like  in  a  nature  that  was  so  unlike  his  own ; 

60 


The   Making   of  a  Prig 

and  he  was  so  secretive  himself  that  the  artless 
confidences  of  Heaton,  if  a  little  wearisome,  at 
least  relieved  him  of  the  necessity  of  adding  to 
the  conversation.  Besides  this,  he  was  a  man 
who  never  willingly  sought  the  friendship  of 
others,  and  the  obvious  preference  that  the 
good-natured  idler,  who  was  so  many  years  his 
elder,  had  shown  for  him  when  they  first 
met  at  a  public  dinner,  had  secretly  flattered 
him  not  a  little,  and  their  acquaintance  had 
grown  after  that  as  a  matter  of  course. 

"  All  the  same,"  resumed  Heaton  in  his 
ordinary  manner,  "  an  outsider  never  can  do 
much  in  these  cases.  Perhaps  it  would  be 
better  to  leave  them  alone ;  and  yet,  if  the  boy 
were  to  come  to  me  for  the  benefit  of  my 
larger  experience  — 

"  Don't  you  think,"  interrupted  Paul,  "  that 
we  have  talked  about  a  couple  of  children  as 
much  as  we  need  ?  It 's  all  very  well  for  an 
old  reprobate  like  yourself  to  spend  your  time 
in  reviving  your  lost  youth,  but  I  have  n't  so 
much  leisure  as  you  have,  and  I  want  to  hear 
about  those  shares  you  mentioned  in  your  letter 
last  week." 

Heaton  laughed  good-humouredly. 

"  You  don't  realise,  my  dear  fellow,  how 
anything  like  that  always  interests  me.  But 

61 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

you  wait  until  your  time  comes ;  at  present  you 
are  too  cynical  to  understand  what  I  mean." 

"  Or  too  romantic,"  suggested  Paul. 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  said  Heaton.  "  Romance  is  only 
an  equivalent  for  inexperience ;  I  think  you  're 
a  cold-hearted  beggar  who  lets  the  best  things 
in  life  go  by,  but  I  should  n't  call  you  inex- 
perienced. You  've  got  a  finished  way  with 
women  that  always  appeals  to  them  ;  women 
love  a  little  humbug,  if  it 's  well  done.  I  'm 
too  obvious  for  them,  too  simple-minded,  and 
that  always  frightens  them  off." 

"  Does  it  ?  "  smiled  Paul. 

"  Now,  you  ought  to  marry,"  continued 
Heaton  briskly.  "  I  believe  in  marriage, 
hanged  if  I  don't !  and  it 's  been  the  making 
of  me.  Everything  that  is  good  in  me  I  owe 
to  my  married  life." 

"  Did  it  really  take  two  marriages  ?  "  mur- 
mured Paul.  His  companion  smiled  at  the 
joke  against  himself,  and  they  stood  for  a 
moment  in  silence,  looking  over  the  lawn  that 
had  just  acquired  its  fresh  bloom  of  green. 
Katharine's  voice  came  out  to  them  again 
through  the  open  window,  this  time  raised  in 
indignant  dispute  with  her  aunt. 

"  She  is  a  curious  mixture  of  hardness  and 
sentiment,"  said  Paul  involuntarily,  "  and  her 

62 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

surroundings  have  made  her  a  prig ;  but  she 
interests  me  rather." 

"  Ah,"  said  Heaton,  "  I  quite  agree  with 
you.  There  is  a  touch  of  the  prig  about 
her.  But  can  you  wonder?  She  is  the  only 
bit  of  life  and  prettiness  about  the  place, 
and  she  never  meets  her  equal.  They 
think  a  good  lot  of  her,  too.  And  the 
parson's  daughter  generally  thinks  a  good 
lot  of  herself." 

"  She  does  it  rather  charmingly,"  said  Paul, 
in  a  dispassionate  tone,  "  and  she  is  fairly  well 
read,  and  knows  how  to  express  herself.  For 
a  woman,  she  has  quite  a  sense  of  criticism." 

"  That 's  bad,"  said  Heaton  decidedly,  "  very 
bad.  A  woman  should  have  no  sense  of  criti- 
cism. That  is  what  makes  her  a  prig.  In 
fact,  as  I  have  often  said  to  you  before,  a  prig 
is  made  in  three  ways.  First  of  all,  she  is 
made  by  her  own  people,  if  she  happens  to  be 
clever ;  and  secondly,  by  the  world,  if  she  hap- 
pens to  be  successful ;  and  thirdly,  by  her  lover, 
if  she  is  'nt  in  love  with  him.  But  of  course 
if  she  is  in  love  with  him  he  may  be  the 
cause  of  her  unmaking." 

Some  one  in  a  light-coloured  print  frock 
jumped  out  of  a  side  window  and  disappeared 
in  the  direction  of  the  summer-house.  The 

63 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

two  men  stood  and  looked  after  her  without 
being  noticed. 

"  As  you  say,"  remarked  Heaton  blandly, 
"  she  does  it  rather  charmingly." 

Paul  roused  himself  with  an  effort. 

"  Half-past  three,"  he  said,  looking  at  his 
watch.  "  Did  n't  you  promise  to  go  and  look 
at  the  Rector's  coins  some  time  this  after- 
noon ? " 

And  in  another  five  minutes  he  had  joined 
Katharine  in  the  summer-house. 


64 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  summer  house  was  set  far  back  in  the 
shrubbery,  and  although  hidden  from  the  house 
by  laurels  and  box-trees,  was  open  at  the  front 
to  a  stretch  of  brightly  coloured  flower  beds 
and  trimly  cut  grass.  It  was  a  glorious  day 
in  May,  and  spring  in  its  fulness  was  come. 
The  white  fruit  blossoms  had  given  place  to 
crumpled  green  leaves,  and  the  early  summer 
flowers  were  in  bud.  Paul  Wilton  lay  on  a 
low  basket  chair,  where  he  had  flung  himself 
down  after  making  his  escape  from  his  garru- 
lous friend ;  and  at  his  feet,  with  an  open  book 
on  her  lap,  sat  Katharine.  Obviously,  a  great 
many  poor  women  had  lost  a  great  many 
babies,  since  the  day  she  had  sat  on  the  chair 
at  the  end  of  his  bed  and  talked  about  her 
favourite  poets,  for  the  book  on  her  lap  was 
only  a  pretence,  to  which  neither  of  them  paid 
the  least  attention,  and  their  conversation  was 
of  a  purely  personal  nature,  the  kind  of  con- 
versation that  has  no  subject  and  no  epigrams, 
and  is  carried  on  in  half-finished  sentences. 
5  65 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  I  am  beginning  to  understand  why  you 
don't  paint  or  write  or  do  things,  although  you 
know  such  a  lot  about  them,"  observed  Katha- 
rine, half  closing  her  eyes  and  making  a  pic- 
ture of  the  square  of  sunlit  garden  as  she  saw 
it  framed  in  the  woodwork  of  the  summer- 
house  door. 

Paul  smiled.  It  was  very  pleasant  to  be  told 
by  this  child  of  Nature  that  he  knew  "  such  a 
lot  about  things." 

"  Tell  me  why,"  was  all  he  said,  however. 

"  I  think  it  is  because  it  puts  you  in  a  posi- 
tion to  criticise  every  one  else.  It  makes  you 
so  superior,  in  a  sort  of  way.  Oh,  bother  !  I 
never  can  explain  things.  But  don't  you  see, 
if  you  were  a  painter  yourself,  you  could  n't 
say  that  there  was  only  one  painter  living,  as 
you  do  now.  Could  you  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  I  could,"  said  Paul,  and  laughed 
gently  at  her  look  of  surprise. 

"  Of  course  I  know  you  are  only  laughing 
at  me,"  she  said  in  an  injured  tone.  "You 
never  think  I  am  serious  about  anything." 

"  My  dear  Miss  Katharine,"  he  assured 
her,  "  on  the  contrary,  I  think  you  are  most 
terribly  serious  about  everything.  I  have 
never  had  so  much  serious  conversation  since 
I  was  nineteen  myself.  You  will  have  to 

66 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

grow  older,  before  you  learn  to  be  young  and 
frivolous." 

"  But  you  are  not  frivolous,"  she  protested. 
"  You  know  you  are  not.  You  only  say  that 
to  tease  me." 

"  I  only  say  it  to  convince  you.  It  is  not 
my  fault  if  you  do  not  understand,  is  it  ?  " 

"  I  do  understand,  I  am  certain  I  do.  At 
least "  —  she  paused  suddenly,  and  looked  at 
him  with  one  of  her  long  critical  looks.  "  Per- 
haps you  are  right,  and  I  don't  understand  you 
a  bit.  How  queer !  I  don't  think  I  like  the 
feel  of  it."  She  ended  with  a  little  gesture  of 
distaste. 

"  I  should  n't  bother  about  it,  if  I  were 
you,"  said  Paul  calmly.  "  You  will  under- 
stand better  when  you  are  older  —  and  younger. 
Meanwhile,  it  is  very  pleasant,  don't  you 
think  ?  " 

She  was  leaning  forward  with  her  hands 
folded  under  her  chin,  and  did  not  answer 
him. 

"  What  made  you  choose  to  be  a  barrister  ?  " 
she  asked  suddenly. 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Merely  because  it  presented  greater  oppor- 
tunities for  idleness  than  any  other  profession, 
I  suppose." 

67 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

Katharine  swung  herself  round  on  her  low 
stool,  and  looked  at  him  incredulously. 

"  But  don't  you  ever  want  to  do  anything,  — 
you  with  all  your  brains  and  your  talents  ?  " 
she  cried  impatiently.  "  Surely  you  must  have 
some  ambition  ? " 

"  Oh,  no,"  replied  Paul,  arranging  the  cush- 
ions at  the  back  of  his  head  and  sinking  down 
on  them  again.  "  I  hope  I  shall  always  be 
comfortable,  that 's  all ;  and  I  have  enough 
money  for  that,  thank  the  Lord ! " 

"  Supposing  you  had  been  poor  ?  " 

"  Don't  suppose  it,"  rejoined  Paul ;  and  her 
puzzled  features  relaxed  into  a  smile. 

"  I  can't  think  why  you  have  a  face  like  that, 
then,"  she  said  reflectively. 

"  What 's  the  matter  with  my  face  ?  Does 
it  suggest  possibilities  ?  To  think  that  I  might 
have  been  a  minor  poet  all  these  years,  without 
knowing  it ! " 

Katharine  returned  to  her  examination  of 
the  flower  beds  ;  and  Paul  lay  back,  and  blew 
rings  of  smoke  into  the  air,  and  watched  her 
through  them  with  an  amused  look  on  his 
face.  He  recalled  some  casual  words  of 
Heaton's  which  had  annoyed  him  very  much 
at  the  time,  —  "If  I  'm  not  in  love  with  a 
woman,  I  don't  want  to  give  her  another 

68 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

thought ; "  and  he  glanced  at  her  slim  waist 
as  she  sat  there,  and  tried  lazily  to  analyse  his 
own  feelings  towards  her. 

"  What  are  you  thinking  about  ? "  she 
asked,  turning  round  again. 

"  About  you,"  he  said,  and  brought  his  feet 
lightly  to  the  ground  and  sat  up  and  stretched 
himself. 

"  What  about  me  ?  "  she  asked  curiously. 

"  I  am  wondering  if  you  will  miss  me  very 
much  when  I  am  gone,"  he  said,  and  slid 
slowly  along  the  chair  until  he  sat  behind  her, 
where  he  could  just  see  her  rounded  profile  as 
she  turned  her  face  away  from  him. 

"  Oh,  yes,  awfully  !  I  wish,  I  do  wish  you 
were  not  going  !  "  She  was  looking  very  hard 
at  the  flower  beds  now. 

"  So  do  I,  Miss  Katharine.  It  has  been 
quite  delightful  ;  I  shall  never  forget  your 
sweet  care  of  me.  But  you  will  soon  forget 
all  about  me.  And  besides,  there  is  Ted." 

"  What  has  that  got  to  do  with  it  ? "  she 
asked  swiftly. 

"  Oh,  nothing,  surely  !  It  was  merely  an 
inconsequent  reflection  on  my  part." 

There  was  a  pause  for  a  few  moments. 

"  Talk,"  he  said  suddenly,  and  put  his  hand 
gently  against  her  cheek.  It  warmed  under 

69 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

his  touch,  and  he  heard  the  tremor  in  her  voice 
as  she  spoke. 

"  I  —  I  can't  talk.     Oh,  please  don't !  " 

"  Can't  you  ?     Try." 

She  put  her  hand  up  to  his,  and  he  caught 
hold  of  her  fingers,  and  dropped  a  light  kiss 
on  them  as  they  lay  crumpled  up  on  his 
palm.  Then  he  pressed  them  slightly,  and 
let  them  go,  and  walked  away  to  the  house 
without  looking  at  her  again.  His  counte- 
nance was  as  unmoved  as  if  he  had  just  been 
talking  archaeology  to  the  Rector ;  but  his 
reflections  seemed  absorbing,  and  he  hardly 
roused  himself  to  move  aside  when  Ted  came 
lounging  out  of  the  house  and  ran  against 
him  in  the  porch. 

"  Hullo  !  "  said  Ted.  "  I  'm  awfully  sorry  ; 
I  did  n't  see  you,  really." 

"  Oh,  no  matter  ! "  said  Paul,  who,  never 
being  guilty  of  a  clumsy  action  himself,  could 
afford  to  remain  undisturbed.  "  Miss  Kath- 
arine 's  in  the  summer  house,"  he  added,  in 
answer  to  Ted's  disconsolate  look.  "  We  've 
been  reading  Browning.  At  least,  Miss  Kath- 
arine out  of  her  goodness  has  been  trying  to 
make  a  convert  of  me.  I  am  afraid  I  was  an 
unappreciative  listener." 

Ted  glanced  inquiringly  at  him.  Somehow, 
70 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

it  was  not  so  easy  to  disapprove  of  Paul  to  his 
face  as  it  was  behind  his  back. 

"  How  poor ! "  he  said  sympathetically. 
"  Kitty  does  play  so  cheap,  sometimes,  does  n't 
she  ?  Browning  is  enough  to  give  you  the 
hump,  I  should  think.  But  she  never  does 
that  to  me." 

"  Probably,"  said  Paul,  disengaging  a  ciga- 
rette paper ;  "  she  would  not  feel  the  same 
necessity  in  your  case.  You  would  have 
greater  facilities  for  conversation,  I  mean. 
Won't  you  have  a  cigarette  ? " 

Ted  looked  towards  the  shrubbery,  but 
lingered  as  though  the  invitation  commended 
itself  to  him. 

"  I  think  I  '11  have  a  pipe,  if  it 's  all  the 
same  to  you.  May  I  try  that  'baccy  of  yours  ? 
Thanks,  awfully ! " 

They  sat  down  on  opposite  sides  of  the 
little  porch,  and  puffed  away  in  silence. 

"  You  have  n't  been  over  much,  lately," 
observed  Paul  presently. 

Ted  glanced  at  him  again,  but  was  disarmed 
by  his  tone  of  friendliness. 

"  No,"  he  said.  "  At  least,  I  was  over  once 
or  twice  last  week,  but  I  never  got  a  look  in 
with  Kitty.  I  mean,"  he  added  hastily, 
"  she  was  out,  or  something." 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Paul  indifferently  ;  "  that  was 
unfortunate." 

"  It  was  a  howling  nuisance,"  said  Ted,  his 
troubled  look  returning.  "  The  truth  is,"  he 
went  on,  feeling  a  desire  for  a  confidant  to  be 
stronger  than  his  distrust  of  Paul,  "  there  's 
something  I  've  been  trying  to  tell  Kit  for  a 

whole  week,  and  for  the  life  of  me  I  can't  get 

•^      i. » 
it  out. 

"  Going  to  make  a  fool  of  himself  at  the 
very  start,"  thought  Paul. 

"  You  see,"  continued  Ted  with  an  effort, 
"  she  has  been  playing  up  so,  lately." 

"  Your  mother  ?  "  questioned  Paul. 

Ted  nodded. 

"  And  now  she 's  got  me  a  confounded 
berth  in  some  place  in  the  city,  —  candles,  or 
grocery,  or  something  beastly.  It 's  the  poor- 
est thing  I  ever  heard.  And  I  Ve  got  to 
start  on  Thursday,  so  I  must  leave  home  to- 
morrow. And  Kitty  does  n't  know  ;  that 's 
the  devil,  you  see." 

"  I  'm  sorry,"  said  Paul  gravely. 

"  Got  it  through  some  cousin  of  my  father's," 
Ted  went  on  in  his  aggrieved  voice.  "  No  one 
but  a  cousin  of  one's  father  ever  hears  of  such 
rotten  jobs.  Said  it  would  be  the  making  of 
me,  or  some  rot.  I  've  heard  that  before  ;  the 

72 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

men  who  never  did  a  stroke  of  work  them- 
selves always  talk  that  sort  of  cheapness.  Have 
to  be  there  at  half-past  eight  in  the  morning, 
too,  blow  it  !  " 

"  I  'm  sorry,"  said  Paul  again.  He  began 
to  feel  a  vague  interest  in  the  boy  as  he  sat 
opposite  and  stretched  his  long  legs  out  to 
their  full  length,  and  jerked  out  his  complaints 
with  the  brier  between  his  teeth. 

"  She  thinks  it  such  great  shakes,  too  ;  just 
because  she  won't  have  to  keep  me  any  longer. 
She  ought  never  to  have  had  a  son  like  me ;  I 
was  n't  meant  for  such  beastly  work.  Why 
was  I  born  ?  Why  was  I  ?  " 

"  The  parents  of  the  human  animal  are 
never  selected,"  said  Paul,  for  the  sake  of  say- 
ing something. 

"  I  know  I  'm  a  fool,  —  she 's  told  me  that 
often  enough  ;  so  I  don't  expect  to  get  any- 
thing awfully  decent.  But  why  did  they 
educate  me  as  a  gentleman  ?  They  should 
have  sent  me  to  a  board  school,  and  then  I 
should  have  been  a  bounder  myself,  and 
nothing  would  have  mattered.  What's  the 
use  of  being  a  gentleman  and  a  fool  ?  That 's 
what  I  am  ;  and  Kit 's  the  only  person  in  the 
world  who  does  n't  make  me  feel  it,  bless  her  !  " 

Paul  threw  away  his  cigarette,  and  made  a 
73 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

sudden  resolve.  He  was  amused,  in  spite  of 
himself,  at  the  very  youthful  pessimism  in 
Ted's  remarks ;  and  for  a  moment  he  felt 
almost  anxious  that  the  boy  should  not  spoil 
his  career  by  a  false  start.  There  was  some- 
thing novel,  too,  in  his  playing  the  part  of 
counsellor,  and  Paul  Wilton  was  never  averse 
to  a  new  sensation.  So  he  leaned  forward  and 
tapped  his  companion  on  the  knee  with  his 
long,  pointed  forefinger. 

"  You  may  send  me  to  the  devil,  if  you 
like,"  he  said  with  his  placid  smile,  "  but  I 
should  like  to  give  you  a  word  of  advice  first. 
May  I  ? " 

Ted  looked  more  depressed  than  before,  but 
he  did  not  seem  surprised. 

"  Fire  ahead  !  "  he  said  sadly.  "  I  can  stand 
an  awful  lot.  People  have  always  given  me 
advice,  ever  since  I  was  a  kid ;  it 's  the  only 
thing  they  ever  have  given  me." 

"  I  don't  suppose  it  is  my  business  at  all," 
said  Paul,  making  another  cigarette  with  the 
elaborate  precision  he  always  spent  on  trifles ; 
"  but  I  Ve  seen  so  many  nice  chaps  ruined 
through  a  mistake  in  early  life,  and  I  know 
one  or  two  things,  and  I  'm  older  than  you, 
too.  Now,  how  do  you  mean  to  tell  that  child 
over  there  that  you  are  going  away  ?  " 

74 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

Ted  started. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? "  he  asked.  But 
his  lower  lip  was  twitching  nervously,  and  his 
colour  had  deepened. 

"  Well,  this  is  what  I  mean.  Given  an 
emotional  creature  like  that,  who  has  never 
seen  any  man  but  you,  and  a  young,  impetuous 
fellow  like  yourself,  going  to  say  good-bye  to 
her  for  an  indefinite  period,  —  well,  you  are 
both  extremely  likely  to  arrive  at  one  con- 
clusion ;  and  my  advice  to  you  is,  —  Don't." 

Ted  said  nothing,  but  continued  to  stare  at 
the  tesselated  floor.  The  elder  man  rose  to  his 
feet,  and  restored  the  match  box  to  his  pocket. 

"  I  nearly  did  it  myself  once,"  he  said ; 
«  but  I  did  n't." 

Ted  looked  him  thoughtfully  up  and  down. 

"  I  should  n't  think  you  did,"  he  said, 
with  unconscious  sarcasm.  Then  he  too  rose 
slowly  to  his  feet,  and  stood  on  the  doorstep 
for  a  moment,  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets. 
"  I  think  you  're  a  confounded  cynical  brute," 
he  said  rather  breathlessly ,  "  but  I  believe 
you  're  right,  and  I  won't." 

And  he  walked  across  the  lawn  to  the 
shrubbery  with  the  air  of  a  man  on  whose 
decision  depends  the  fate  of  nations. 

Paul  frowned  slightly,  as  he  always  did  when 
75 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

he  was  thinking  deeply,  and  then  threw  off  his 
preoccupation  with  a  laugh.  Even  when  he 
was  alone,  he  liked  to  preserve  his  attitude  of 
nonchalance. 

"  How  have  I  contrived  to  fall  among  such 
an  appallingly  serious  set  of  infants  ?  "  he  mut- 
tered. "  Hey-day !  here  's  for  London  and 
life  ! "  And  he  turned  indoors  to  look  for  a 
time-table. 

Ted  stalked  straight  into  the  summer  house, 
with  his  head  in  the  air  and  his  mind  filled 
with  high-souled  resolutions.  Any  one  less 
occupied  with  his  own  reflections  would  have 
seen  that  Katharine  was  sitting  with  an  absent 
look  in  her  eyes,  while  the  book  she  held  in 
her  hand  was  open  at  the  index-page.  But 
Ted  only  saw  in  her  the  woman  he  had  just 
sworn  within  him  to  respect ;  and  he  took  the 
book  reverently  out  of  her  hand,  and  sat  down, 
also  just  behind  her,  on  the  end  of  the  basket 
chair.  It  was  the  same  basket  chair. 

"  Kitty,  I  say,"  he  began,  clearing  his  throat, 
"  I  Ve  come  to  tell  you  something." 

Katharine  glanced  at  his  solemn  face,  and 
looked  away  again.  She  wished  he  had  not  sat 
just  there. 

"  It  must  have  something  to  do  with  a 
funeral,  then,"  she  said,  with  a  flippancy  that 

76 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

would  have  aroused  the  suspicions  of  a  more 
observant  person.  But  Ted  was  still  absorbed 
in  his  high-souled  resolutions,  and  her  abstrac- 
tion failed  to  make  any  impression  on  him. 

"  No,  it  has  n't,"  he  rejoined  gloomily.  "  I 
wish  it  had  !  I  should  n't  mind  being  dead,  not 
I  !  It  would  cure  this  hump,  anyhow.  Per- 
haps some  one  would  be  sorry,  then ;  don't 
know  who  would,  though !  She  'd  only  com- 
plain of  the  expense  of  burying  me." 

"  Poor  old  man,  who  has  been  bullying  you 
now  ?  "  asked  Katharine,  in  a  dreamy  voice  that 
she  strove  to  make  interested.  "  Has  she  been 
doing  anything  fresh  ?  " 

"  Has  she,  that 's  all !  She  's  been  doing 
something  to  some  purpose,  this  time.  Got 
me  a  beastly  job,  in  a  beastly  city  place ;  a 
pound  a  week ;  soap,  or  wholesale  clothing,  or 
something  poor.  Says  I  ought  to  be  thankful 
to  get  anything.  Thankful  indeed  !  She  never 
shows  a  spark  of  gratitude  for  her  bally  seven 
hundred  a  year,  I  know." 

"  Oh,  Ted  !  every  one  is  going  away.  What 
shall  I  do  ?  "  The  words  escaped  her  involun- 
tarily. But  he  was  still  too  full  of  his  own 
troubles  to  notice  anything  except  that  she 
seemed  distressed  ;  and  this,  of  course,  was  only 
natural. 

77 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

"  I  knew  you  'd  be  cut  up,"  he  said,  kick- 
ing savagely  at  the  leg  of  the  chair.  "  You  're 
the  only  chap  who  cares ;  and  you  '11  forget 
when  I  've  been  gone  a  week.  Oh,  yes,  you 
will !  I  ought  never  to  have  been  born. 
They  're  sure  to  be  rank  outsiders,  too  ;  and  I 
can  stand  anything  sooner  than  bounders. 
It 's  too  beastly  caddish  for  words,  and  I  'd 
like  to  kill  him  for  his  rotten  advice.  What 
does  he  know  about  anything,  a  played-out 
chap  like  that  ?  " 

Ted's  conversation  was  apt  to  become  in- 
volved when  he  was  agitated ;  but  on  this 
occasion  Katharine  made  no  attempt  to  un- 
ravel it. 

"  Poor  Ted,"  she  murmured  tonelessly,  and 
continued  to  think  about  something  else. 

"  I  don't  know  why  you  are  so  cut  up  about 
it.  I  'm  such  a  rotten  ass,  and  you're  so 
infernally  smart !  I  have  n't  any  right  to  ex- 
pect you  to  care  a  hang  about  me ;  I  won't 
even  ask  you  to  write  to  me,  when  I  'm 
gone,"  cried  Ted,  making  desperate  efforts  to 
keep  his  high-souled  resolutions.  "  It 's  a 
rotten,  caddish  world,  and  I  'm  the  rottenest 
fool  in  it." 

He  waited  for  the  contradiction  that  always 
came  from  Katharine  at  this  point  of  his  self- 

78 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

abasement ;  but  when  she  said  nothing,  and 
only  went  on  staring  in  the  opposite  direction, 
he  felt  that  there  was  something  unusually 
wrong,  and  came  hastily  round  to  the  front  of 
her  chair  and  repeated  his  last  remark  with 
emphasis. 

"  You  may  say  what  you  like,  but  I  am. 
All  the  same,  I  would  sooner  chuck  the  whole 
show  than  make  you  unhappy.  I  '11  be  hanged 
if  I  don't  go  away  to-morrow  without  a 
single  — "  He  stopped  abruptly  ;  for  she 
was  looking  up  at  him  piteously,  and  his  high- 
souled  resolutions  suddenly  melted  into  ob- 
livion. "  Kitty,  old  chum,  don't  cry  !  I  'm 
not  worth  it,  —  on  my  soul  I  'm  not ;  blowed 
if  I  've  ever  seen  you  cry  before  !  Good  old 
Kit,  I  say,  don't.  Oh,  the  devil  !  Do  you 
really  mind  so  much  ?  " 

"  Please,  Ted,  go  away ;  you  don't  under- 
stand ;  go  away ;  it  is  n't  that  at  all !  Don't, 
Ted,  don't !  Oh,  dear,  whatever  made  me 
cry  ? "  gasped  Katharine.  But  Ted  would 
take  no  denial :  a  woman's  tears  would  have 
disarmed  him,  even  if  he  had  not  been  in  love 
with  her  ;  and  Katharine,  the  tomboyish  com- 
panion of  years,  appeared  to  him  in  a  strangely 
lovable  light  as  she  sobbed  into  her  hands  and 
made  the  feeblest  efforts  to  keep  him  away. 

79 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

His  arms  were  round  her  in  a  moment,  and 
her  head  was  pulled  down  on  his  shoulder, 
and  he  poured  a  medley  of  broken  sentences 
into  her  ear. 

"  How  was  I  to  know  you  cared,  old  chum  ? 
Of  course  I  have  always  cared ;  but  I  never 
thought  about  it  until  that  played-out  Lon- 
don chap  turned  up  and  put  it  into  my  head. 
Dear  old  Kitty  !  Why,  do  you  know,  I  was 
half  afraid  you  were  going  to  like  him,  one 
time  ;  was  n't  I  a  rotten  ass  ?  But,  you  see, 
you  're  so  bally  clever,  and  all  that ;  and  I 
supposed  he  was,  too,  and  so  I  thought,  — 
don't  you  see  ?  And  all  the  while,  it  was  me  ! 
Buck  up,  Kit !  I  won't  split  that  you  cried,  on 
my  honour  I  won't.  Oh,  I  say,  I  'm  the  most 
confoundedly  lucky  chap  —  But,  oh,  that  infer- 
nal office  in  the  city  !  " 

Katharine  disengaged  herself  at  last.  His 
kisses  seemed  to  burn  into  her  cheeks.  She 
pushed  back  the  basket  chair  into  the  corner 
of  the  summer-house,  and  put  her  fingers  over 
her  eyes  to  shut  out  the  flower  beds  and  the 
sunlight. 

"  Stop,  Ted  !  I  don't  know  what  you  mean. 
You  must  not  think  those  things  of  me ;  they 
are  simply  not  true.  I  can't  let  you  kiss  me 
like  that.  Has  the  world  gone  suddenly  mad, 

80 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

this  afternoon  ?  I  don't  understand  what  has 
happened  to  every  one.  I  don't  understand 
anything.  Will  you  go,  please,  Ted  ?  If  you 
won't,  I  —  I  must." 

She  forced  out  the  disjointed  sentences  in 
hard,  passionless  tones.  Ted  stood  abso- 
lutely still  where  she  left  him,  and  watched 
her  stumble  through  the  doorway  and  disap- 
pear among  the  laurel  bushes  and  the  old  box- 
trees.  Then  he  rumpled  up  his  thick  hair 
with  both  his  hands,  and  laughed  aloud. 

"  I  ought  never  to  have  been  born,"  he 
said,  and  his  voice  broke. 


81 


CHAPTER   VI 

ON  a  foggy  morning  in  the  beginning  of  the 
following  January,  Ted  Morton  strolled  out 
of  his  bedroom  shortly  before  eight  o'clock, 
and  rang  the  bell  for  breakfast.  He  yawned 
as  though  he  were  only  half  awake,  and  swore 
gently  at  the  weather  as  he  stirred  up  the  fire 
to  make  a  blaze. 

"  What  an  infernal  day  !  "  he  muttered,  and 
pulled  down  the  blind  and  lighted  the  gas. 
The  housekeeper  brought  in  his  breakfast  and 
his  letters,  and  wisely  withdrew  without  saying 
anything.  Ted  took  the  lid  off  the  teapot, 
and  examined  the  three  envelopes  in  turn. 
His  face  brightened  a  little  as  he  came  to  the 
third,  and  he  buttered  some  toast  and  ate  it 
standing. 

"  Well,  I  'm  hanged !  Not  a  single  bill, 
and  one  from  Kit,  good  old  Kit !  That  '11  wait, 
and  that.  Well,  I  can  stand  hers ;  it 's  sure 
to  be  funny,  at  all  events." 

He  put  on  one  boot,  and  then  stood  up 
82 


The   Making  of  a    Prig 

again  and  read  her  letter,  with  a  large  cup  of 
tea  in  his  right  hand.  The  smile  on  his  face 
faded  gradually  as  he  read,  and  he  looked 
almost  thoughtful  when  he  folded  it  up  again 
and  placed  it  in  his  breast-pocket.  He  was 
staunch  in  his  belief  that  Katharine  could  do 
no  wrong,  but  her  latest  idea  went  far  to  shake 
his  conviction. 

"  You   see,  it  is  like  this,"   her   letter  ran. 

"  There  is  plenty  of  money,  really,  but  we  have  to 
behave  as  though  there  were  none  ;  so  the  effect  is 
the  same,  it  seems  to  me.  I  never  thought  about  it 
before  ;  I  only  found  it  out  by  accident,  when  I  over- 
heard Aunt  Esther  abusing  daddy  for  buying  some 
old  architectural  books.  It  seems  as  though  he  really 
does  spend  a  good  lot,  without  knowing  it ;  but  then, 
why  should  n't  he  ?  I  won't  have  daddy  bullied,  so 
that  I  should  have  enough  bread  and  butter  to  eat  ; 
it  is  sordid  and  horrible.  They  don't  say  a  word 
about  my  earning  my  own  living,  but  that  is  what 
they  are  driving  me  to  do  ;  it  seems  ridiculous  that  I 
should  make  other  people  uncomfortable  by  being  here, 
when  there  is  plenty  of  money  in  the  world  waiting 
to  be  earned  by  some  one.  Don't  you  think  so  ? 
But  when  I  said  I  would  come  up  to  London  and  give 
lessons,  Aunt  Esther  had  heroics,  and  said  I  should 
kill  her.  She  did  n't  say  how,  and  I  'm  sure  I  did  not 
feel  particularly  murderous ;  I  only  wanted  to  laugh, 
while  she  lay  on  the  sofa  and  said  I  was  undutiful  for 
trying  to  save  her  anxiety  !  I  don't  understand  pa- 

83 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

rents.  They  hide  everything  from  you,  and  behave 
as  if  they  were  wealthy;  then  they  abuse  you  for 
costing  so  much  to  keep;  and  then,  when  you  say 
you  will  keep  yourself,  they  call  you  undutiful. 
There  is  no  doubt  that  if  we  were  to  send  away  one 
of  the  servants,  I  should  be  able  to  stay  at  home  ;  but 
Aunt  Esther  would  have  a  fit  at  the  idea.  It  seems 
to  me  that  we  spend  half  our  income  in  trying  to  per- 
suade people  of  the  existence  of  the  other  half.  Any- 
how, I  am  coming  up  at  once  to  look  for  work.  I 
have  n't  told  daddy  yet,  and  don't  know  how  I  am 
going  to ;  he  will  be  so  dreadfully  cut  up  at  losing  me. 
But  I  am  sure  he  will  understand ;  be  is  the  one  per- 
son who  always  has  understood.  And  won't  it  be 
glorious  when  I  have  earned  enough  money  to  give 
him  everything  he  wants?  About  rooms:  I  saw  an 
advertisement  of  some,  a  few  doors  from  you.  Do 
you  know  them  ?  I  thought  it  would  be  rather  nice 
to  be  near  you,"  etc.,  etc. 

Ted  answered  her  letter  the  same  even- 
ing. Writing  letters  was  always  a  labour  to 
him,  but  he  toiled  over  this  one  more  than 
usual. 

"  Of  course  you  know  what  you  are  playing  at," 
he  wrote,  "  but  I  believe  it  is  awfully  hard  to  get  any- 
thing to  do.  London  is  packed  with  people  trying  to 
find  work ;  and  most  of  them  don't  find  it.  As  to 
the  rooms,  it  would  be  beastly  jolly  to  have  you  so 
close,  but  I  don't  advise  your  coming  here  ;  this 
street  pals  on  to  Regent  Street,  you  know,  and  it 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

is  n't  supposed  to  be  pleasant  for  a  girl.  I  will  explain 
more  fully  when  I  see  you.  Let  me  know  if  I  can 
do  anything  for  you.  I  'm  a  rotten  ass  at  expressing 
myself,  as  you  know  ;  but  it  will  be  awfully  decent 
to  have  you  to  take  about.  Only  I  don't  like  the 
idea  of  your  grinding  away  alone  ;  it 's  rotten  enough 
for  a  man,  but  it 's  miles  worse  for  a  woman.  Write 
again  soon.  It  is  a  life,  is  n't  it  ?  " 

It  was  nearly  a  fortnight  before  he  heard 
from  her  again,  and  he  felt  guiltily  conscious 
of  not  having  encouraged  her  as  much  as  she 
expected.  Then  came  another  letter,  in  her 
small,  firm  handwriting;  and  he  tore  it  open 
anxiously. 

"  I  am  coming  up  by  the  4.55  on  Wednesday," 
she  wrote.  "  Will  you  meet  me  ?  I  thought  per- 
haps you  might,  as  it  is  a  late  train.  Oh,  Ted,  I 
feel  so  old  and  different  somehow  ;  I  don't  believe 
I  could  climb  into  that  pantry  window  now !  Daddy 
took  it  so  strangely  ;  he  hardly  said  anything  at  all. 
Do  you  think  it  is  possible  that  he  really  does  not 
love  me  as  much  as  I  love  him  ?  And  I  mind  leav- 
ing him  so  much  that  it  quite  hurts  every  time  he 
asks  me  to  do  anything  for  him.  Why  was  I  made 
to  like  people  more  than  they  like  me  ?  Why,  I 
believe  daddy  was  rather  relieved  than  otherwise. 
And  I  thought  he  would  never  be  able  to  do  without 
me  !  Am  I  very  conceited,  I  wonder  ?  But  indeed, 
I  do  believe  he  will  miss  me  dreadfully  when  I  am 

85 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

gone.  Aunt  Esther  won't  speak  to  me  at  all ;  I 
feel  in  disgrace,  without  having  done  anything  wrong. 
Parents  are  inexplicable  ;  they  seem  to  grow  tired 
of  us  as  we  grow  up,  just  like  birds  !  And  they 
persist  in  treating  us  like  children,  while  they  are 
forcing  us  to  behave  as  if  we  were  grown  up ;  I 
can't  understand  them,  or  anything.  Things  seem 
to  be  going  all  wrong,  everywhere.  I  have  heard 
of  a  sort  of  home  for  working  gentlewomen,  near 
Edgware  Road  ;  it  seems  respectable,  and  it  is  cer- 
tainly cheap.  They  have  left  me  to  arrange  every- 
thing, just  as  though  I  were  going  to  do  something 
wicked.  And  I  thought  all  the  while  I  was  doing 
something  so  splendid  and  heroic  !  You  will  meet 
me,  won't  you  ?  I  feel  so  forlorn  and  miserable." 

Ted  wrote  back  immediately  :  — 

"  It  is  a  beastly  rotten  world.  Neither  of  us 
ought  to  have  been  born.  I  will  cut  the  office  and 
meet  you.  Buck  up." 

And  the  following  Wednesday  saw  him  on 
the  platform  at  Euston,  trying  to  find  Katha- 
rine in  the  crowd  of  passengers  who  were 
pouring  out  of  the  4.55  train.  It  was  not  long 
before  he  discovered  her,  looking  very  unlike 
her  surroundings,  and  pointing  out  her  luggage, 
half  apologetically,  to  a  porter  who  seemed 
inclined  to  patronise  her.  There  was  an  ex- 
aggerated air  of  self-possession  in  her  bearing, 

86 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

which  did  not  conceal  her  provincial  look  and 
rather  showed  that  she  felt  less  composed  than 
she  wished  to  appear.  Ted  examined  her  for 
a  moment  doubtfully,  and  then  made  his  way 
towards  her.  He  had  not  seen  her  once  since 
she  left  him  in  the  summer-house,  eight 
months  ago  ;  and  he  was  amazed  at  himself 
for  not  feeling  more  disturbed  at  meeting  her 
again  now.  Perhaps  her  prosaic  winter  cloth- 
ing helped  to  rob  the  occasion  of  romance ; 
for,  in  his  mind,  he  had  vaguely  expected  to 
find  her  wearing  the  garden  hat  and  print 
frock  in  which  he  had  last  seen  her.  But 
when  she  turned  round  and  saw  him,  the  frank 
pleasure  in  her  face  was  the  same  as  it  had 
always  been,  and  the  episode  that  had  been 
enacted  in  the  summer-house  seemed  all  at 
once  to  be  blotted  out  of  their  past. 

"  You  dear  old  boy,  I  knew  you  'd  come ! 
I  feel  so  awfully  out  of  it,  in  this  noise  !  Do 
make  that  porter  understand  I  want  to  get 
across  to  Gower  Street,  will  you  ?  He  seems 
confused.  I  don't  speak  a  different  language, 
do  I  ?  Just  look  at  that  glorious  pair  of  bays  ; 
but,  oh,  what  a  shame  to  give  them  bearing- 
reins  !  Why,  Ted,  what  a  swell  you  are  in 
that  frock  coat ;  you  look  just  like  the  vet.  at 
Stoke  on  Sundays  !  Oh,  I  'm  so  sorry ;  I 

87 


The  Making   of  a   Prig 

forgot !     I  want  to  get  to  Edgware  Road,  you 
see,  and  I  thought  —  " 

"  Oh,  we  '11  cab  it,  then  !  Nonsense  !  it  is  n't 
a  bit  cheaper,  only  nastier.  Girls  never  under- 
stand these  things.  Had  n't  you  better  get 
in,  instead  of  examining  the  points  of  the 
horse  ?  It  won't  stand  any  quieter  than  that, 
if  that's  your  idea." 

The  porter  went  off  with  a  handsome  gra- 
tuity, and  Katharine  settled  herself  in  her 
corner  of  the  cab,  and  began  to  examine  her 
companion. 

"  You  Ve  altered  a  little  bit,  Ted,"  she  ob- 
served. "  You  're  not  so  afraid  of  unimportant 
people  as  you  used  to  be.  I  believe  you  would 
go  into  the  post  office  at  Stoke  for  your  own 
stamps,  now,  instead  of  sending  me  because 
the  girl  laughed  at  you.  Do  you  remember  ? 
You  are  such  a  swell,  too ;  how  you  must  be 
getting  on  at  that  place  ! " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  think  so.  I  don't  want  to 
get  on  there  ;  no  decent  chap  would,"  said 
Ted,  and  Katharine  changed  the  conversation. 

"The  streets  seem  very  full,"  she  said,  as 
they  came  to  a  block  in  the  traffic. 

"  Up  to  the  brim,"  said  Ted  laconically. 
"  I  always  wonder  the  horses  don't  tread  on 
one  another's  toes,  don't  you  ? " 

88 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

She  laughed  in  her  old  joyous  manner, 
and  he  leaned  back  contentedly  and  looked  at 
her. 

"  At  all  events,  you  have  n't  altered  much," 
he  observed. 

"  I  've  grown  an  inch,  and  my  dresses  are 
quite  long  now.  Besides,  I  have  put  up  my 
hair.  Did  n't  you  notice  ?  " 

"  I  thought  there  was  something.  Turn 
your  head  round.  About  time  you  did,  was  n't 
it  ?  But  why  don't  you  make  it  stick  out 
more  ?  Other  girls  do,  don't  they  ?  " 

Katharine  had  not  seen  any  other  girls,  and 
said  so  ;  whereupon  Ted  supposed  it  was  all 
right,  if  she  thought  it  was,  and  added  con- 
ciliatingly,  that  at  all  events  her  new  coat  was 
"  all  there."  They  chattered  in  the  same  tri- 
vial manner  all  the  rest  of  the  way ;  it  was  like 
the  old  days,  when  they  had  never  thought 
of  making  up  a  quarrel  formally,  but  had 
just  resumed  matters  where  they  had  been 
broken  off. 

"  Do  you  feel  bad  ?  "  he  asked,  in  his  sym- 
pathetic way,  when  they  stood  at  last  on  the 
well-worn  doorstep  of  number  ten,  Queen's 
Crescent,  Marylebone. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  !  I  've  got  to  go  through 
with  it  now,  have  n't  I  ?  It 's  just  like  you 

89 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

and  me  not  to  have  touched  on  anything 
really  important  all  the  way  ;  is  n't  it  ?  And 
I  Ve  got  such  a  heap  of  things  to  tell  you," 
said  Katharine,  in  a  nervous  tone ;  and  she 
gave  a  little  shiver  as  an  east  wind  came 
rushing  up  the  street  and  blew  dirty  pieces  of 
paper  against  the  dingy  iron  railings,  whence 
they  fluttered  down  into  the  area. 

"  Never  mind  ;  I  '11  look  you  up  some 
evening  soon.  Let  me  know  if  you  want  buck- 
ing up  or  anything.  Good-bye,  old  chum." 

And  she  found  herself  inside  a  dimly  lighted, 
distempered  hall,  face  to  face  with  a  kindly 
looking  maid,  who  was  greeting  her  with  the 
air  of  conventional  welcome  she  had  been 
told  to  assume  towards  strangers.  It  was 
supposed  to  support  the  advertisement  that 
this  was  a  home. 

"  Miss  Jennings  ?  No,  miss  ;  she  won't  be 
in,  not  before  supper.  And  the  lady  what's 
in  your  cubicle  ain't  cleared  out  yet,  miss,  so 
I  can't  take  your  box  up,  neither.  Will  you 
come  and  have  your  tea,  miss  ?  This  way,  if 
you  please." 

Katharine  followed  her  mechanically.  The 
heroic  notions  that  had  sustained  her  for  weeks 
were  vanishing  before  this  pleasant-faced  maid 
and  the  dreary,  distempered  hall.  For  the 

90 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

first  time  in  her  life  a  feeling  of  shyness  sud- 
denly overwhelmed  her,  as  the  servant  held 
open  a  door,  and  a  hum  of  voices  and  clatter 
of  plates  came  out  into  the  passage.  For 
the  moment,  she  hardly  knew  where  to  look 
or  what  to  do.  The  room  into  which  she 
had  been  ushered  was  a  bare-looking  one, 
though  clean  enough,  and  better  lighted  than 
the  hall  outside.  Long  tables  were  placed 
across  it,  and  around  these,  on  wooden  chairs, 
sat  some  twenty  or  thirty  girls  of  various  ages, 
some  of  whom  were  talking  and  others  read- 
ing, as  they  occupied  themselves  with  their 
tea.  They  all  looked  up  when  Katharine 
came  into  the  room,  but  the  spectacle  did  not 
present  enough  novelty  to  interest  them  long, 
and  they  soon  looked  away  again  and  went  on 
with  their  several  occupations.  "  She  won't 
be  here  long, —  not  the  sort,"  Katharine  over- 
heard one  of  them  saying  to  another,  and  the 
casual  remark  brought  the  colour  to  her 
cheeks,  and  made  her  assume  desperately  some 
show  of  courage. 

"  May  I  take  this  chair  ? "  she  asked,  mov- 
ing towards  a  vacant  place  as  she  spoke. 

"  It  is  n't  anybody's  ;  none  of  them  are 
unless  the  plate  is  turned  upside  down,"  vol- 
unteered the  girl  in  the  next  chair.  She  was 

91 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

reading  "  Pitman's  Phonetic  Journal,"  and 
eating  bread  and  treacle. 

"  You  have  to  get  your  own  tea  from  the 
urn  over  there,  and  collect  your  food  from  all 
the  other  tables,"  she  added  in  the  same 
brusque  manner,  as  Katharine  sat  down  and 
looked  helplessly  about  her.  However,  by 
following  out  the  instructions  thus  thrown  at 
her,  she  managed,  with  a  little  difficulty,  to 
procure  what  she  wanted  from  the  food  that 
was  scattered  incidentally  about  the  room, 
and  then  returned  to  her  seat  by  the  girl  who 
was  eating  bread  and  treacle. 

"  Is  n't  it  rather  late  for  tea  ?  "  she  asked  of 
her  neighbour,  who  at  least  seemed  friendly  in 
a  raw  sort  of  way. 

"  It  always  goes  on  till  seven  ;  most  of  them 
don't  get  back  from  the  office  before  this, 
you  see." 

"  What  office  ?  "  asked  Katharine,  who  did 
not  see. 

"  Any  office,"  returned  the  girl,  staring  round 
at  her.  "  Post  office  generally,  or  a  place  in 
the  city,  or  something  like  that.  Some  of  them 
are  shorthand  clerks,  like  me,  —  it's  shorter 
hours  and  better  paid  as  a  rule  ;  but  it 's  getting 
overcrowded,  like  everything  else." 

"  Do  you  like  it  ?  "  asked  Katharine.  The 
92 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

girl  stared  again.  The  possibility  of  liking  one's 
work  had  never  occurred  to  her  before. 

"  Of  course  not ;  but  we  have  to  grin  and 
bear  it,  like  the  food  here  and  everything  else. 
I  'm  sorry  for  you  if  you  mean  to  stop  here 
long ;  you  don't  look  as  though  you  could 
stand  it.  I  've  seen  your  sort  before,  and  they 
never  stop  long." 

"  Oh,  I  mean  to  stop,"  said  Katharine  de- 
cidedly. But  her  heroic  mood  had  been 
completely  dissipated  by  the  leaden  atmos- 
phere of  the  place,  and  she  could  not  repress 
a  sigh. 

"  Butter  bad  ?  "  asked  her  neighbour  cheer- 
fully. "  Try  the  treacle ;  it 's  safer.  You 
can't  go  far  wrong  with  treacle.  The  jam  's 
always  suspicious ;  you  find  plum  stones  in 
the  strawberries,  and  so  on." 

Katharine  was  obliged  to  laugh,  and  the 
shorthand  clerk,  who  had  not  meant  to  make 
a  joke,  seemed  hurt. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Katharine,  "  but 
your  cynical  view  of  the  food  is  so  awfully 
funny." 

"  Wait  till  you  Ve  been  here  three  years, 
like  I  have,"  said  the  shorthand  clerk,  and 
she  returned  to  her  newspaper. 

Katharine  tried  to  stay  the  sinking  at  her 
93 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

heart,  and  made  a  critical  review  of  the  room. 
What  impressed  her  most  was  the  twang  of 
the  girls'  voices.  Not  that  they  were  noisy,  — 
for  they  seemed  a  quiet  set  on  the  whole  ; 
either  daily  routine  or  respectability  had  suc- 
ceeded in  subduing  their  spirits  ;  but  for  all 
that  they  did  not  look  unhappy,  and  Katha- 
rine supposed,  as  her  neighbour  had  remarked, 
that  it  was  possible  to  get  used  to  it  after 
a  time. 

"  And  the  room  is  certainly  clean,"  she  re- 
flected, as  she  made  an  effort  to  see  the  brighter 
side  of  things  ;  "  and  the  girls  don't  stare, 
or  ask  questions,  or  do  anything  unpleasant. 
I  could rit  tell  them  anything  about  myself 
if  they  did.  And  I  do  wish,  though  I  know 
it 's  awfully  snobbish,  that  some  of  them  were 
ladies." 

Her  neighbour  broke  in  upon  her  thoughts, 
and  Katharine  came  to  herself  with  a  start. 

"  Whose  cuby  are  you  going  to  have  ? " 
she  was  asking. 

"I  —  I  don't  know.  The  servant  said  it 
was  not  empty  yet.  I  should  rather  like  to 
unpack." 

"  I  don't  suppose  you  will  get  a  permanent 
one  yet  awhile,"  said  the  shorthand  clerk,  in 
the  cheerful  way  with  which  she  imparted  all 

94 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

her  unpleasant  revelations  ;  "  they  always  move 
you  about  for  a  week  or  two  first.  I  ex- 
pect you  are  coming  into  our  room  for  the 
present ;  Miss  King  is  going  up  to  Scotland 
by  the  night  mail.  Jenny  will  tell  you  when 
she  comes  in.  Supper  is  at  nine,"  she  added, 
pushing  back  her  chair  and  folding  up  her 
paper,  "  and  there  are  two  reception  rooms 
upstairs,  if  you  want  to  sit  somewhere  till 
your  cubicle  is  empty." 

Katharine  thanked  her,  and  felt  more  for- 
lorn than  ever  when  the  shorthand  clerk  had 
gone.  But  the  servant  came  to  her  rescue  a 
few  minutes  later,  and  offered  to  take  her  to 
her  room  which  was  now  empty. 

"  Is  it  Miss  King's  ?  "  asked  Katharine,  and 
felt  a  little  happier  when  she  learned  that  it 
was.  She  would  have  one  acquaintance  in 
the  same  room  at  all  events.  But  her  heart 
sank  again,  when  she  found  herself  alone  with 
her  two  boxes  in  a  curtained  corner  of  a 
dingy  room,  the  corner  that  was  the  farthest 
from  the  window  and  the  smallest  of  the  four 
compartments.  There  was  hardly  room  to 
move  ;  and  when  she  tried  to  unpack  her  boxes, 
she  found  that  most  of  the  drawers  in  the 
tiny  chest  were  already  occupied,  and  that 
there  were  no  pegs  for  her  dresses. 

95 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

"  Could  anything  be  more  dreary  ? "  she 
said  aloud.  "  And  the  curtains  are  just  hor- 
ribly dirty,  and  I  don't  feel  as  though  I  could 
get  into  that  bed.  And  what  a  tiny  jug 
and  basin ! " 

"  Hullo,  is  that  you  ?  "  said  the  voice  of  the 
shorthand  clerk,  who  had  come  into  her  part 
of  the  room  unobserved.  "  I  guessed  you  'd 
feel  pretty  bad  when  you  saw  what  it  was  like. 
They  all  do.  But  you  might  as  well  turn  up 
the  gas,  and  make  it  as  cheerful  as  possible. 
That 's  better.  Well,  it 's  not  much  like  the 
prospectus,  is  it  ?  " 

Katharine  remembered  the  plausible  state- 
ments of  the  prospectus,  and  broke  into  a 
laugh.  There  was  a  grim  humour  in  her 
situation  that  appealed  to  her,  though  it 
seemed  to  be  lost  on  her  companion. 

"  Well,  I  'm  glad  you  can  laugh,  though  I 
never  found  it  funny  myself,"  she  called  out. 
"  But  don't  stay  moping  here ;  come  into  the 
drawing-room  until  the  bell  rings  for  supper, 
won't  you  ?  " 

Katharine  followed  her  advice,  and  allowed 
herself  to  be  taken  into  another  bare  looking 
room,  over  the  dining-room.  This  was  fur- 
nished with  a  horsehair  sofa  and  three  basket 
chairs,  which  were  all  occupied,  several  cane 

96 


The   Making  of  a    Prig 

chairs,  and  two  square  tables,  at  which  some 
girls  sat  writing.  One  of  them  looked  up  as 
the  door  opened,  and  asked  the  shorthand  clerk 
to  come  and  help  her  with  her  arithmetic. 

"  You  know  I  'm  no  good,  Polly.  Where  's 
Miss  Browne  ?  "  asked  the  shorthand  clerk, 
pushing  a  chair  towards  Katharine,  and  taking 
one  herself. 

"  She 's  out ;  I  think  you  might  try,"  said 
the  girl  who  had  spoken  to  her,  in  a  peevish 
tone.  "  I  have  got  to  finish  this  paper  to- 
night ;  and  I  'm  fagged  now." 

"  Can  I  help  ?  "  asked  Katharine.  The  other 
two  looked  at  her,  and  seemed  surprised. 

"  This  is  some  one  new,"  explained  her  first 
friend.  "  Let  me  introduce  you :  Miss  Polly 
Newland,  Miss —  Why,  I  don't  even  know 
your  name,  do  I  ?  " 

"  Austen,"  said  Katharine.  "  Won't  you 
tell  me  yours  ?  " 

The  girl  said  her  name  was  Hyam,  —  Phyllis 
Hyam  ;  and  they  returned  to  the  subject  of 
the  arithmetic. 

"Let's  look  at  it,  Polly,"  said  Phyllis 
Hyam,  and  Miss  Newland  passed  the  paper 
across  the  table.  The  two  girls  bent  over  it, 
and  Phyllis  shook  her  head. 

"I  never  understood  stocks,  —  too  badly 
7  97 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

taught ! "  she  said,  and  tilted  her  chair  and  be- 
gan to  whistle. 

"  Shall  I  try  ?  "  said  Katharine,  taking  out  a 
pencil.  She  worked  out  the  sum  to  the 
satisfaction  of  Polly  Newland,  who  then  un- 
bent a  little,  and,  explained  that  she  was  going 
up  for  the  Civil  Service  examination  in 
March. 

"  I  say,  you  're  clever,  are  n't  you  ?  Do 
you  teach  ? "  asked  Phyllis  Hyam,  bringing 
the  front  legs  of  her  chair  down  again  with 
a  bang. 

"  That  is  what  I  want  to  do  ;  but  I  never 
have,"  replied  Katharine.  The  other  two 
looked  at  her  pityingly. 

"  Any  friends  in  London  ?  "  they  asked. 

"  Only  relations ;  and  they  won't  help  me." 

"  Of  course  not.  Relations  never  do.  Hope 
you  '11  get  some  work,"  said  the  shorthand  clerk 
dubiously.  Katharine  changed  the  conversa- 
tion, to  hide  her  own  growing  apprehension. 

"  Where  are  the  newspapers  ? "  she  asked, 
looking  round. 

"  In  the  prospectus  ;  never  saw  them  any- 
where else ! "  said  Phyllis,  with  a  short 
laugh. 

"  Did  you  expect  to  find  any  ?  "  asked  Polly 
Newland.  "  They  all  do,"  she  added  gravely. 

98 


The    Making  of  a   Prig 

"  It 's  like  the  baths,  and  the  boots,  and  every- 
thing else." 

"  Surely,  the  bath-room  is  not  a  fallacy  ? " 
exclaimed  Katharine  in  dismay. 

"  Oh,  there  is  one  down  in  the  basement ; 
but  all  the  water  has  to  be  boiled  for  it,  so 
only  three  people  can  have  a  bath  every  even- 
ing. You  have  to  put  your  name  down  in  a 
book ;  and  your  turn  comes  in  about  a  fort- 
night." 

"  And  the  boots  ?  "  said  Katharine,  suppress- 
ing a  sigh. 

"  You  have  to  clean  your  own,  that 's  all. 
They  are  supposed  to  provide  the  blacking  and 
the  brushes  ;  but,  my  eye,  what  brushes  !  Of 
course  you  get  used  to  it  after  a  bit.  When 
you  get  to  your  worst,  you  will  probably  wear 
them  dirty." 

"  When  does  one  get  to  one's  worst  ?  "  asked 
Katharine. 

"  That  depends,"  said  Polly  Newland,  suck- 
ing the  end  of  her  pencil,  and  staring  across  in 
a  curious  manner  at  Katharine.  "  I  should  say 
you  would  get  to  it  pretty  soon,  if  you  stop 
long  enough." 

"  Of  course  I  shall  stop  ! "  cried  Katharine, 
a  little  impatiently.  "  Why  do  you  both  say 
that?" 

99 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

The  two  girls  glanced  at  one  another. 

"  You  're  not  the  sort,"  said  Phyllis  shortly ; 
and  Polly  returned  to  her  arithmetic. 

Katharine  relapsed  into  a  dream.  All  her 
aspirations,  all  her  hopes  of  making  her  father 
a  rich  man,  had  only  landed  her  in  number 
ten,  Queen's  Crescent,  Marylebone !  She 
looked  round  at  the  silent  occupants  of  the 
room,  —  some  of  them  too  tired  to  do  anything 
but  lounge  about,  some  of  them  reading  novel- 
ettes, some  of  them  mending  stockings.  She 
wondered  if  her  existence  would  simply  become 
like  theirs,  —  a  daily  routine,  with  just  enough 
money  to  support  life,  and  not  enough  to  buy 
its  pleasures ;  enough  energy  to  get  through 
its  toil,  and  not  enough  to  enjoy  its  leisure. 
Ivingdon,  with  its  recent  troubles,  its  more  dis- 
tant happiness,  seemed  separated  from  this  rude 
moment  of  disillusionment  by  a  long  stretch  of 
years.  A  passionate  instinct  of  rebellion  against 
the  circumstances  that  were  answerable  for  her 
present  situation  made  her  unhappiness  seem 
still  more  pitiable  to  her ;  and  a  tragic  picture 
of  herself,  martyred  and  forgotten,  ten  years 
hence,  brought  sympathetic  tears  to  her  own 
eyes. 

A  piano  began  a  cheerful  accompaniment  in 
the  next  room,  and  some  one  sang  a  ballad  in 
100 


The  Making   of  a   Prig 

a  fresh,  untrained  soprano.  The  piano  was  out 
of  tune,  and  the  song  was  of  the  cheapest  and 
most  popular  nature  ;  but  it  made  an  inter- 
ruption in  the  sound  of  the  traffic  outside  on 
the  cobble-stones,  and  Katharine  glanced  round 
the  room  characteristically,  in  search  of  an 
answering  smile.  But  the  other  girls  were  as 
unaffected  by  the  music  as  they  had  been  by 
the  dreariness  that  preceded  it ;  and  nobody 
looked  up  from  what  she  was  doing.  Only 
one  of  them  made  a  comment ;  it  was  Phyllis 
Hyam.  "  How  that  girl  does  thump  ! "  she 
said. 

But  on  Katharine  the  effect  had  been  instan- 
taneous. She  was  not  cultured  in  music  :  with 
her  it  was  an  emotion,  not  an  art;  and  the 
little  jingling  tune  had  already  turned  her 
thoughts  into  a  happier  channel.  Her  spirits 
rose  insensibly,  and  the  spell  that  the  dingy 
surroundings  had  cast  over  her  was  broken. 
Why  should  she  believe  what  these  two  girls 
told  her  ?  Surely,  her  conviction  that  she 
would  make  something  of  her  life  was  not  go- 
ing to  wear  itself  out  in  a  miserable  struggle  to 
keep  alive !  She  was  worth  something  more 
than  that :  she  was  intellectual  beyond  her  years  ; 
every  one  had  told  her  so,  until  she  had  come 
to  believe  it  was  true ;  and  her  future  was  in 

101 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

her  own  hands.  She  would  be  a  teacher  of  a 
new  school ;  she  would  make  a  name  for  herself 
by  her  lectures ;  and  then,  some  day,  when  she 
had  acquired  a  fortune,  and  all  the  world  was 
talking  of  her  talent,  and  her  goodness,  and  her 
beauty,  —  she  was  going  to  be  very  beautiful, 
too,  in  her  dream,  —  these  girls  would  remem- 
ber that  they  had  doubted  her  powers  of  endur- 
ance. She  was  even  rehearsing  what  she  would 
say  to  them  in  the  hour  of  her  triumph,  when 
a  touch  on  her  shoulder  brought  her  back 
abruptly  to  her  present  surroundings,  and  she 
looked  up  to  see  a  little  white-haired  lady  at 
her  side,  in  a  lace  cap  and  a  black  silk  apron. 

"  Miss  Austen  ?  Come  down  with  me,  and 
let  us  have  a  little  chat  together.  I  was  sorry 
not  to  be  back  in  time  to  receive  you,  my 
dear." 

It  was  a  sudden  awakening  ;  but  she  was  able 
to  smile  as  she  followed  her  guide  downstairs. 

"  She  has  the  captivating  manner  of  an 
impostor,"  she  reflected.  "  She  is  just  like 
Widow  Priest !  But  it  accounts  for  the 
prospectus." 


102 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  next  day,  she  began  a  vigorous  search  for 
work.  She  did  everything  that  is  generally 
done  by  women  who  come  up  from  the  coun- 
try and  expect  to  find  employment  waiting  for 
them  ;  she  answered  advertisements,  she  visited 
agents,  she  walked  over  the  length  and  breadth 
of  London,  she  neglected  no  opportunity  that 
seemed  to  offer  possibilities.  But  she  soon 
found  that  she  had  much  to  learn.  She  dis- 
covered that  she  was  not  the  only  girl  in  Lon- 
don, who  thought  there  was  a  future  before 
her  because  she  was  more  intellectually  minded 
than  the  rest  of  her  family ;  and  she  found  that 
every  agent's  office  was  full  of  women,  with 
more  experience  than  herself,  who  had  also 
passed  the  Higher  Local  Examination  with 
honours,  and  did  not  think  very  much  of  it. 
And  she  had  to  learn  that  an  apologetic  manner 
is  not  the  best  one  to  assume  towards  strangers, 
and  that  omnibus  conductors  do  not  mean  to 
be  patronising  when  they  say  "  missy,"  and 
that  a  policeman  is  always  open  to  the  flattery 
103 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

of  being  addressed  as  "  Constable."  But  what 
she  did  not  learn  was  the  extravagance  of  being 
economical ;  and  it  was  some  time  yet  before 
she  discovered  that  walking  until  she  was  over- 
tired, and  fasting  until  she  could  not  eat,  were 
the  two  most  expensive  things  she  could  have 
done. 

But  she  found  no  work.  Either  there  was 
none  to  be  had,'  or  she  was  too  young ;  or,  as 
they  sometimes  implied,  too  attractive.  When 
this  last  objection  was  made  to  her  by  <  the 
elderly  principal  of  a  girl's  school,  Katharine 
stared  in  complete  bewilderment  for  a  moment 
or  two,  and  then  broke  into  an  incredulous 
laugh. 

"  But,  surely,  my  looking  young  and  —  and 
inexperienced  would  not  affect  my  powers  of 
teaching,"  she  remonstrated. 

"  It  would  prevent  my  taking  you,"  replied 
the  principal  coldly.  "  I  must  have  some  one 
about  me  whom  I  can  trust,  and  leave  safely 
with  the  children.  Besides,  what  do  I  know 
of  your  capabilities  ?  You  say  you  have  never 
even  tried  to  teach  ?  " 

"But  I  know  I  can  teach, —  I  am  certain  of  it; 
I  only  want  a  chance.  Why  must  I  wait  until 
I  am  old  and  unsympathetic,  and  can  no 
longer  feel  in  touch  with  the  children,  before 

104 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

any  one  will  trust  me  with  a  class  ?     It  is  not 
reasonable." 

The  elderly  principal  remained  unmoved. 

"  The  teaching  market  is  overcrowded  by 
such  as  you,"  she  said.  "  I  should  advise  your 
trying  something  else." 

"  I  have  not  been  trained  to  anything  else," 
said  Katharine.  "  That  is  where  it  is  so  hard. 
I  might  have  got  a  secretaryship,  if  I  had 
known  shorthand.  I  never  knew  I  should 
have  to  earn  my  own  living,  or  I  should  be 
better  qualified  to  do  it.  But  I  know  I  can 
teach,  if  I  get  the  chance." 

"  Are  you  compelled  to  earn  your  living  ?  " 
asked  the  principal,  a  little  less  indifferently. 
"  Pardon  me,  but  I  have  heard  your  tale  so 
often  before  from  girls  who  might,  with  a  little 
forbearance,  have  remained  at  home." 

"  I  am  compelled,"  answered  Katharine. 
"At  least—" 

A  feeling  of  loyalty  to  her  father,  her  lov- 
able, faulty  old  father,  who  was  so  unconscious 
of  her  present  difficulties,  kept  her  silent  and 
brought  a  troubled  look  into  her  face.  The 
elderly  principal  was  not  unkindly,  when  cir- 
cumstances did  not  force  her  to  be  academic  ; 
and  Katharine,  when  she  looked  troubled,  was 
very  attractive  indeed. 

105 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  My  dear,"  she  said,  with  a  severity  that 
she  assumed  in  order  to  justify  her  weakness  in 
her  own  mind,  "  what  are  your  friends  think- 
ing of?  Go  home  ;  it  is  the  right  place  for  a 
child  like  you." 

Katharine  hurried  away  to  conceal  her  de- 
sire to  laugh.  She  did  not  go  home,  however ; 
she  went  to  a  cheap  milliner's  in  the  Edg- 
ware  Road,  and  ordered  them  to  make  her  a 
severely  simple  bonnet.  And  when  it  came 
home  the  next  evening,  and  she  put  it  on,  she 
hardly  knew  whether  to  laugh  or  to  cry  at  the 
reflection  of  herself  in  the  glass.  "  Whatever 
would  daddy  say  ? "  she  thought,  and  put  it 
hastily  back  into  the  box  ;  and  if  the  other 
occupants  of  her  room  had  happened  to  come 
in  just  then,  they  would  certainly  have  modi- 
fied their  opinion  of  her  pride  and  her  coldness. 
But,  after  all,  she  was  no  better  off  than  be- 
fore ;  for  the  contrast  of  youth  and  age  that 
her  new  bonnet  made  in  her  appearance  was 
rather  conspicuous  than  otherwise,  and  she 
found  that  her  old  countrified  hat  suited  her 
purpose  far  better. 

She  saw  very  little  of  Ted  at  this  time.     He 

asked    her    to    come    out    with    him,    once  or 

twice,  but  she  always  refused.     She  was  afraid 

that  he  would  ask  questions,  and  she   shrank 

106 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

from  telling  any  one,  even  Ted,  of  her  failure 
to  get  on.  On  the  few  occasions  that  she 
went  down  to  speak  to  him  in  the  hall,  she  told 
him  that  she  was  getting  along  quite  well,  and 
would  be  sure  to  hear  of  some  work  very  soon, 
and  that  she  would  prefer  not  to  come  out 
with  him  because  it  unsettled  her.  And  Ted, 
in  his  humble-minded  way,  thought  she  had 
made  new  friends  in  the  house  and  did  not 
care  to  be  bothered  with  him  ;  and  Katharine, 
who  read  him  like  a  book,  knew  that  he 
thought  so,  and  made  fresh  efforts  to  get  on 
so  that  she  could  spend  all  her  leisure  time 
with  him.  She  wrote  home  in  the  same  spirit, 
and  said  that  she  was  sure  of  making  her  way 
soon,  and  that,  meanwhile,  she  had  everything 
she  wanted,  and  nobody  was  to  be  anxious 
about  her.  And  her  father,  with  the  quaint 
unworldliness  of  his  nature,  wrote  back  that  he 
was  glad  to  hear  she  was  happy,  and  that  he 
had  no  doubt  the  ten  pounds  he  had  given  her 
would  last  until  she  earned  some  more,  and 
that  he  had  just  picked  up  a  perfect  bargain  in 
an  old  book  shop  for  thirty  shillings. 

"  Dear  daddy,"  smiled  Katharine,  without  a 
trace  of  bitterness.     "  Could  any  one  be  more 
economical  for  other  people,  and  more  extrav- 
agant for  himself?     I  wonder  if  that  is  what 
107 


The   Making  of  a    Prig 

makes  me  love  him  so  ?  But,  oh,  what  would 
I  give  for  that  thirty  shillings  !  " 

She  counted  her  little  store  for  the  twentieth 
time,  and  sat  thinking.  Doubtless  she  had 
spent  her  money  injudiciously  at  first ;  but  the 
fact  remained  that,  if  she  went  on  at  her  present 
rate  of  expenditure,  she  would  have  to  return 
home  in  a  fortnight.  If  she  went  without  her 
midday  meal,  and  economised  in  every  possible 
way,  she  might  manage  to  remain  another 
month. 

"  That  is  what  I  must  do,"  she  said.  "  That 
will  bring  me  to  the  middle  of  March,  and  I 
shall  have  been  in  London  just  nine  weeks. 
And,  after  all,  the  food  is  so  nasty  that  I  sha'n't 
mind  much.  Besides,  it  is  really  very  roman- 
tic to  starve  a  little." 

It  grew  less  romantic  as  another  fortnight 
went  by.  The  food  had  never  seemed  less  nasty 
than  it  did  now ;  and  she  had  to  take  long 
walks  at  dinner  time  to  escape  the  appetising 
smell  of  the  hot  dishes.  She  had  never  real- 
ised before  what  a  very  healthy  appetite  she 
possessed ;  and  she  remembered  with  some 
regret  how  she  had  been  too  dainty,  at  first, 
to  touch  the  food  at  all,  and  had  lived  for  days 
almost  entirely  on  bread  and  butter.  But  now 
she  would  have  eaten  any  of  it  with  a  relish,  — 

1 08 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

even  a  certain  dish  which  was  said  to  be  stewed 
rabbit,  but  which  she  had  derisively  termed 
"a  cat  in  a  pie  dish." 

One  day,  she  read  an  alluring  advertisement 
of  a  new  agency.  She  had  lost  her  faith  in 
agencies,  and  she  had  no  more  money  for  fees  ; 
but  at  least  it  was  an  object  for  a  walk,  and 
anything  was  better  than  waiting  indoors  for 
something  to  happen.  To  be  idle  in  a  place 
like  Queen's  Crescent  was  not  an  enviable 
position.  And  by  this  time  she  knew  her 
London  pretty  well,  and  it  fascinated  her,  and 
spoke  to  her  of  life,  and  work,  and  the  future  ; 
and  a  walk  through  any  part  of  it  was  always 
exhilarating.  As  she  turned  into  the  park  at 
the  Marble  Arch,  a  carriage  and  pair  rumbled 
out  with  two  well-dressed  women  in  it.  Kath- 
arine stopped  and  looked  after  it,  with  an 
amused  smile  on  her  face. 

"  My  aunt  and  cousin,"  she  murmured  aloud. 
"  What  would  they  say,  if  they  knew  ?  And 
once  they  came  to  stay  with  us,  and  they 
worried  daddy  no  end,  and  said  I  wanted  fin- 
ishing, and  ought  to  go  to  Paris !  It  seems  to 
me  that  life  is  always  a  comedy,  but  sometimes 
it  drops  into  a  roaring  farce ! " 

And  pleased  with  the  appositeness  of  her  own 
remark,  she  continued  her  walk  in  better  spirits 
109 


The    Making  of  a    Prig 

than  her  worldly  condition  would  seem  to 
justify.  The  agency  turned  out  to  be  on  the 
top  floor  of  some  flats  near  Parliament  Street ; 
and  the  porter  looked  curiously  at  her  as  he 
took  her  up  in  the  lift. 

"  Agency,  miss  ?  So  they  says,  I  'm  told. 
Don't  believe  in  agencies  much  myself,  I 
don't;  queerish  kind  of  impostory  places,  I 
calls  'em.  Don't  you  let  yourself  be  took  in, 
missy ! " 

Katharine  remembered  the  condition  of  her 
purse,  and  felt  that  it  was  not  likely.  Her 
destination  was  marked  by  a  large  amount  of 
information  on  the  wall,  headed  by  the  inscrip- 
tion, "  Parker's  Universal  Scholastic  and  Com- 
mercial Agency."  She  had  not  much  time  to 
study  it,  however,  for  an  office  boy  hastened 
to  answer  her  knock,  as  though  he  had  been 
longing  for  the  opportunity  to  do  so  for  some 
time,  and  said  that  Mr.  Parker  was  at  liberty, 
if  she  would  kindly  step  in.  She  fancied  that 
he  also  stared  critically  at  her,  and  she  began 
to  fear  that  something  was  wrong  with  her 
personal  appearance.  This  naturally  did  not 
add  to  her  self-possession  ;  and  when  she  found 
herself  in  a  small  inner  room  that  smelt  of  stale 
tobacco  and  whiskey,  she  began  to  wish  she 
had  not  come  at  all.  A  fair-haired  man,  with 

1 10 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

a  moustache  and  an  eyeglass,  was  sitting  with 
his  feet  on  the  mantel-shelf  when  she  entered 
the  room  ;  but  he  jumped  up  with  a  great  deal 
of  fuss,  and  offered  her  a  chair,  and  asked  her 
what  he  could  do  for  her.  Katharine  faltered 
out  her  usual  inquiry  for  teaching  work  ;  and 
the  fact  that  Mr.  Parker  was  adjusting  his  eye- 
glass and  taking  her  in  from  head  to  foot  all 
the  time,  completed  her  discomfiture. 

"  Teaching  ?  To  be  sure,"  he  said  with  a 
supercilious  smile,  and  went  at  once  to  the 
door  and  told  the  boy  to  bring  the  books. 

"  There  ain't  no  books,  and  you  knows  it," 
retorted  the  boy,  who  seemed  disposed  to  be 
rebellious  ;  and  Mr.  Parker  vanished  precipi- 
tately into  the  other  room.  When  he  returned, 
his  smile  was  unaltered ;  and  he  sat  down 
again,  and  twirled  his  drooping  moustache. 

"  I  have  just  looked  through  the  books,"  he 
said,  "  and  don't  see  anything  good  enough 
for  you.  Would  you  care  to  take  anything 
else?" 

"  I  don't  quite  know  what  else  I  could  do," 
said  Katharine  doubtfully.  She  wanted  to 
get  away,  and  did  not  exactly  know  how  to 
make  a  dignified  exit. 

"  Book-keeping,  for  instance,  or  literary 
work  ?  Have  you  ever  tried  being  a  secre- 

in 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

tary  ?  Ah,  I  am  sure  you  have !  You  are 
not  the  sort  of  young  lady  to  lead  the  life  of 
a  humdrum  governess,  eh  ?  " 

"  I  was  my  father's  secretary,"  said  Katha- 
rine. Mr.  Parker  was  leaning  across  the  table 
and  playing  with  the  pens  in  the  ink-stand,  so 
that  his  hand  almost  touched  her  elbow. 

"  Of  course  you  were.  So  I  was  right  about 
you,  was  n't  I  ?  Don't  you  think  that  was  very 
clever  of  me,  now  ?  " 

He  leaned  a  little  nearer  to  her,  and  Kath- 
arine drew  back  instinctively  and  took  her 
elbow  off  the  table.  He  found  the  straight 
look  of  her  eyes  a  little  disconcerting,  and 
left  off  playing  with  the  penholders. 

"  Speaking  seriously,"  he  said,  donning  an 
official  air  with  alacrity,  "would  you  care  to 
take  a  post  as  secretary  ?  " 

He  had  dropped  his  eyeglass  and  his  super- 
cilious manner,  and  Katharine  took  courage. 

"  I  should,  immensely.  But  they  are  so 
hard  to  get." 

"  Of  course  they  are  not  easy  to  pick  up, 
but  in  an  agency  like  ours  we  often  hear  of 
something  good.  Let  me  see,  would  you  like 
to  go  out  to  South  Africa  ?  Hardly,  I  should 
think." 

Katharine  said  she  would  not  like  to  go  out 
112 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

to  South  Africa ;  whereupon  Mr.  Parker  of- 
fered New  Zealand  as  an  alternative. 

"  Your  connection  seems  to  lie  principally 
in  other  quarters  of  the  globe,"  Katharine  felt 
obliged  to  remark  ;  and  in  an  unguarded  mo- 
ment she  began  to  laugh  at  the  absurdity  of  his 
suggestions.  Mr.  Parker  at  once  ceased  to 
look  official,  and  laughed  with  her,  and  began 
playing  with  the  pens  in  the  inkstand  again. 

"  Ah,  now  we  understand  each  other  better," 
he  said,  resuming  his  familiar  tone.  "  What 
you  want  is  a  snug  little  berth  with  some  liter- 
ary boss,  who  won't  give  you  too  much  to  do, 
eh  ?  A  nice  salary,  and  some  one  charming  to 
play  with  ;  is  n't  that  it  ?  " 

The  sheer  vulgarity  of  the  man  exposed 
the  real  nature  of  the  situation  to  her.  Her 
first  impulse  was  to  rush  out  of  his  sight,  at 
any  cost ;  but  she  restrained  herself  with  art 
effort,  and  drew  a  sharp  breath  to  gain  time  to 
collect  her  resources. 

"  I  am  afraid,  Mr.  Parker,  that  we  don't  un- 
derstand each  other  at  all,"  she  said  very 
slowly,  trying  to  conceal  the  tremble  in  her 
voice  ;  "  and  as  I  don't  feel  inclined  to  emi- 
grate, I  think  I  had  better  —  " 

"  Now,  now,  what  a  hurry  you  are  in,  to  be 
sure  !  "  interrupted  Mr.  Parker,  getting  up  and 
8  113 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

lounging  round  to  her  side  of  the  table.  "  You 
have  n't  even  heard  what  I  was  going  to  say. 
I  've  been  looking  out  for  a  secretary  myself, 
for  some  time,  'pon  my  oath  I  have ;  but  never, 
until  this  blessed  moment,  have  I  set  eyes  upon 
a  young  lady  who  suited  me  so  well  as  you. 
Now,  what  do  you  say  to  that,  eh  ?  " 

Katharine  had  risen,  too,  and  was  turning 
imperceptibly  towards  the  door.  She  glanced 
contemptuously  round  the  room,  that  was  so 
entirely  devoid  of  the  ordinary  apparatus  of 
business,  and  she  walked  swiftly  to  the  door 
and  opened  it,  before  he  had  time  to  prevent 
her. 

"  You  are  most  kind,"  she  said  sarcastically, 
emboldened  by  the  presence  of  the  office  boy, 
"  but  I  feel  that  the  work  would  be  very  much 
too  hard  for  me.  A  large  business  like  yours 
must  need  so  much  looking  after !  Good 
morning." 

Outside,  while  she  was  waiting  for  the  lift, 
her  composure  completely  deserted  her,  and  she 
found  she  was  trembling  all  over,  and  had  to 
lean  against  the  balusters  for  support. 

"  I  knowed  you  was  n't  the  sort  to  go  a-mix- 
ing  of  yourself  up  with  that  kidney,"  observed 
the  porter,  who  detected  the  tears  in  her 
eyes. 

114 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

"  Why  did  n't  you  tell  me  he  was  such  a 
horrid  man  ?  "  asked  Katharine.  She  was 
thoroughly  unnerved,  and  even  the  porter's 
sympathy  was  better  than  none  at  all. 

"It  was  n't  my  business  to  hinterfere,"  said 
the  porter,  who  was  merely  curious  and  not 
sympathetic  at  all ;  and  Katharine  dried  her 
eyes  hastily,  and  tried  to  laugh. 

"  Of  course  it  is  nobody's  business,"  she 
said  drearily,  and  gave  him  twopence  for  help- 
ing her  to  realise  the  fact.  "  And  I  should  n't 
have  cried  at  all,  if  I  had  had  any  lunch,"  she 
added  vehemently  to  herself. 

Some  one  was  waiting  to  enter  the  lift  as  she 
stepped  out  of  it.  She  looked  up  by  chance 
and  caught  his  eye,  and  they  uttered  each 
other's  name  in  the  same  breath. 

For  a  moment  they  stood  silent,  as  they 
loosed  hands  again.  Katharine  had  blushed, 
hopelessly  and  irretrievably ;  but  he  was  stand- 
ing a  little  away  from  her,  with  just  the  neces- 
sary amount  of  interest  in  his  look,  and  the 
necessary  amount  of  pleasure  in  his  smile. 
Paul  was  a  man  who  prided  himself  on  never 
straining  a  situation  ;  and  directly  he  saw  her 
agitation  at  meeting  him,  he  assumed  the 
conventional  attitude,  entirely  for  purposes  of 
convenience. 

"5 


The  Making   of  a    Prig 

"  This  is  very  delightful.  Are  you  staying 
in  town  ? " 

"  Yes.     At  least  —  " 

"  Your  father  well,  I  hope  ?  And  Miss 
Esther  ?  I  am  charmed  to  hear  it.  Suppos- 
ing we  move  out  of  the  draught ;  yes,  cold, 
isn't  it?  Thanks,  I  won't  go  up  now  — " 
this  to  the  porter,  who  was  still  waiting  by  the 
lift.  "  Which  way  are  you  going  ?  Good  !  I 
have  a  call  to  pay  in  Gloucester  Place,  and  we 
might  go  in  the  same  cab." 

It  was  pleasant  to  be  ordered  about,  after 
taking  care  of  herself  for  seven  weeks,  and 
Katharine  yielded  at  once  to  the  masterful 
tone,  which  had  always  compelled  her  compli- 
ance from  the  moment  she  had  first  heard  it. 

"  Now,  please,  I  want  to  hear  all  about  it," 
he  began  briskly,  as  they  drove  westwards. 
His  manner  was  no  longer  conventional,  and 
his  familiar  voice  carried  her  back  over  the 
weary  months  of  last  year  to  the  spring  when 
she  had  still  been  a  child.  Somehow  she  did 
not  feel,  as  with  Ted,  that  she  could  not  tell 
him  about  her  failures  :  it  seemed  as  though 
this  man  must  know  all  there  was  to  know 
about  her,  whether  it  was  pleasant  for  him  to 
hear  it  or  not ;  though,  as  she  told  him  about 
her  coming  to  town  and  her  subsequent  career 
116 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

there,  she  made  her  tale  so  entertaining  that 
Paul  was  something  more  than  idly  amused, 
when  she  finally  brought  it  to  an  end. 

"  Do  you  think  I  ought  not  to  have  done 
it  ?  "  she  asked  him,  anxiously,  as  he  did  not 
speak.  He  looked  at  her  before  he  answered. 

"  I  cannot  imagine  how  they  let  you  do  it ! " 

"  Oh,  don't !  That  is  what  that  horrid  old 
lady  principal  said.  What  could  possibly  hap- 
pen to  me,  I  should  like  to  know  ? " 

He  looked  at  her  again,  with  his  provoking 
serenity. 

"  Oh,  nothing,  of  course  !  At  least,  not  to 
you." 

"  Why  not  to  me,  particularly  ?  "  she  asked 
half  petulantly.  She  did  not  know  whether  to 
be  pleased  or  annoyed  that  he  should  credit  her 
with  the  same  infallible  quality  as  every  one  else. 

"  Because  things  of  that  nature  do  not,  I 
believe,  happen  to  girls  of  your  nature.  But 
of  course  I  may  be  wrong ;  I  am  quite  ignorant 
in  these  matters." 

She  smiled  at  his  show  of  humility  ;  it  was  so 
characteristic  of  him  to  affect  indifference  about 
his  own  opinions.  But  she  had  learnt  some- 
thing already  that  day,  and  she  remembered 
Mr.  Parker,  and  thought  that  Paul  very  pos- 
sibly was  wrong  on  this  occasion. 
117 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

"  Every  one  tells  me  that.  I  can't  see  how 
I  am  different,"  she  said  thoughtfully. 

"  I  should  n't  worry  about  it,  if  I  were  you. 
You  could  not  be  expected  to  see.  But  it  is 
just  that  little  difference  that  has  probably 
carried  you  through." 

Katharine  remembered  Mr.  Parker  again, 
and  laughed  outright. 

"  I  don't  think  so,"  she  said.  "I  think  it  is 
more  likely  to  have  been  my  sense  of  humour." 

"  You  used  to  laugh  like  that  when  I  first 
knew  you,"  he  said  involuntarily.  She  knew 
that  he  had  spoken  without  reflection,  and  she 
laughed  again  with  pleasure.  It  was  always  a 
triumph  to  surprise  him  into  spontaneity. 

"  How  jolly  it  was  in  those  days  !  Do  you 
remember  our  tea  in  the  orchard,  how  we 
watched  Aunt  Esther  out  of  the  front  door, 
and  then  brought  the  things  out  through  the 
back  door  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  and  how  you  spilt  the  milk,  and 
cook  would  n't  let  you  have  any  more,  and 
our  second  cups  were  spoilt  ? " 

"  Rather !    And  how  you  shocked  Dorcas  —  " 

"  Ah,"  sighed  Paul ;  "  we  can  never  do  those 
delightful  things  again.  We  know  one  another 
too  well,  now." 

They  allowed  themselves  to  become  almost 
118 


The   Making   of  a  Prig 

depressed,  for  the  space  of  a  moment,  because 
they  knew  one  another  so  well.  "  All  the 
same,"  observed  Katharine,  "  there  is  still  one 
joy  left  to  us.  We  can  quarrel." 

He  became  conventional  again  as  he  rang 
the  bell  for  her  at  number  ten,  Queen's  Cres- 
cent, Marylebone.  He  raised  his  hat,  and 
gently  pressed-  her  hand,  and  supposed  he 
should  see  her  again  soon.  And  Katharine, 
who  was  occupied  in  hoping  that  he  did  not 
notice  the  squalor  of  the  area,  and  would  not 
come  inside  the  dull,  distempered  hall,  only 
said  that  she  supposed  so  too ;  and  then 
blamed  herself  hotly,  as  he  drove  away,  for 
not  responding  more  warmly. 

"  He  will  think  I  don't  want  to  see  him 
again,"  she  thought  wearily,  as  she  dragged 
herself  up  the  uncarpeted  stairs,  and  went  into 
her  dark  and  dingy  cubicle.  It  had  never 
seemed  so  dark  or  so  dingy  before ;  and  she 
added  miserably  to  herself,  "  I  had  better  not 
see  him  again,  perhaps.  It  makes  it  all  so 
much  worse  afterwards." 

She  would  have  been  surprised  had  she 
known  what  Paul  really  was  thinking  about 
her. 

"  She  is  more  of  a  study  than  ever,"  he 
said  to  the  cab  horse.  "  Still  so  much  of  the 
119 


The  Making   of  a   Prig 

innocent  pose  about  her,  with  just  that  indi- 
cation of  added  knowledge  that  is  so  fascinating 
to  a  man.  She  '11  do,  now  she  has  got  away 
from  her  depressing  relations ;  and  the  touch 
of  weirdness  in  her  expression  is  an  improve- 
ment. Wonder  if  Heaton  would  call  her  a 
schoolgirl  now?  It  was  quite  finished,  the 
careless  way  she  said  good-bye,  as  though  it 
were  of  no  consequence  to  her  at  all.  Yes  ; 
she  is  a  study." 

About  a  week  later,  when  Katharine  came 
down  to  breakfast,  Phyllis  Hyam  threw  her 
a  letter,  in  her  unceremonious  fashion. 

"  Look  here  !  "  she  said.  "  I  've  kept  you 
a  chair  next  to  mine,  and  I  Ve  managed  to 
procure  you  a  clean  plate,  too ;  so  don't  go 
away  to  the  other  table,  as  you  did  yesterday. 
Polly's  gone ;  and  I  won't  talk  unless  you 
want  to.  Come  on  !  " 

Katharine  sat  down  absently  on  the  hard 
wooden  chair,  and  began  to  read  her  letter. 
She  never  wanted  to  talk  at  breakfast  time, 
a  fact  which  Phyllis  good-naturedly  recognised 
without  respecting.  To-day  she  was  more 
silent  than  usual. 

"  No,  I  can't  eat  any  of  that  stuff,"  she  said 
to  the  proffered  bacon.  "  Get  me  some  tea,  will 
you  ?  I  '11  make  myself  some  toast." 

1 20 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

Phyllis  trotted  off  to  the  fire  instead,  and 
made  it  herself;  and  Katharine  returned  to 
her  letter  without  noticing  her  further.  Judg- 
ing from  the  tense  look  on  her  face,  it  was  of 
more  than  ordinary  interest. 

"  Dear  Miss  Katharine,"  it  ran, 

A  school  in  which  I  have  a  little  influence  is  in 
want  of  a  junior  mistress.  I  have  no  idea  as  to  the 
kind  of  work  you  want,  but  if  it  is  of  this  nature,  and 
you  would  like  to  consider  it  further,  come  up  and 
see  me  about  it  in  my  chambers.  I  shall  be  in  at 
tea-time,  any  afternoon  this  week.  The  best  way 
for  you  to  get  here  is  to  come  to  the  Temple  Station. 
Do  not  think  any  more  about  it,  if  you  have  already 
heard  of  something  else. 

Yours  sincerely, 

PAUL  WILTON. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Katharine  aloud,  "  I  shall 
go  this  very  afternoon."  Then  she  paused, 
and  looked  smilingly  into  Phyllis  Hyam's  hot 
face.  "  No  ;  I  mean  to-morrow." 

"  What  ?  "  said  Phyllis,  looking  perplexed. 
"  I  thought  you  wanted  it  now,  and  I  made 
it  on  purpose." 

"  You  dear  thing !  of  course  I  want  it  now. 
You  are  an  angel  of  goodness,  and  I  am  a 
cross  old  bear,"  exclaimed  Katharine,  with  a 
burst  of  unusual  cordiality ;  and  Phyllis  was 

121 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

consumed  with  curiosity  as  to  the  writer  of 
that  letter. 

It  was  not  difficult  to  find  Paul  Wilton's 
chambers  among  the  quaint  old  buildings  of 
Essex  Court ;  and  Katharine,  as  she  toiled  up 
the  massive  oak  staircase,  stopping  on  every 
landing  to  read  the  names  over  the  doors, 
felt  that  she  had  reached  a  delightful  oasis  of 
learning  in  the  middle  of  commercial  London. 

"  How  splendid  to  be  a  man,  and  to  have 
brains  enough  to  live  in  a  place  like  this," 
she  thought  enthusiastically ;  and  then,  with 
the  cynicism  that  always  dogged  the  steps  of 
her  enthusiasm,  she  added,  "  It  probably  only 
wants  money  enough,  though." 

Paul  Wilton  opened  his  own  door  to  her. 
He  looked  really  glad  to  see  her,  and  Katha- 
rine flushed  with  pleasure  when  he  kept  hold 
of  her  hand  and  drew  her  into  his  room. 

"  This  is  most  good  of  you,"  he  said  ;  and 
on  the  impulse  of  the  moment  Katharine  let 
herself  be  surprised  into  an  indiscretion. 

"  I  was  so  glad  to  have  your  letter  ;  I  wanted 
to  see  you  again  dreadfully,"  she  said,  without 
reflection.  She  meant  what  she  said,  but  she 
saw  from  his  manner  that  she  ought  not  to 
have  said  it.  Any  sentiment  that  was  crudely 
expressed  was  always  distasteful  to  him  ;  and 

122 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

he  at  once  dropped  her  hand,  and  pulled 
forward  an  arm-chair  with  a  great  show  of 
courtesy. 

"Is  that  comfortable,  or  do  you  prefer  a 
high  one?  I  thought  you  might  come,  one 
day ;  but  I  hardly  expected  you  so  soon.  It 
is  rather  wet,  too,  is  n't  it  ?  " 

Something  impelled  her  to  meet  his  irritat- 
ing self-assurance  with  ridicule. 

"  Very  wet,"  she  replied  demurely.  "In 
fact,  now  I  come  to  think  of  it,  there  are 
a  great  many  reasons  why  I  should  not  have 
come.  But  the  one  that  brought  me  here,  in 
spite  of  them  all,  was  a  matter  of  business, 
if  you  remember." 

If  he  minded  being  laughed  at,  he  certainly 
did  not  show  it,  for  his  tone  was  much  more 
natural  when  he  answered  her. 

"  Oh,  yes,  about  the  school  !  It  is  not  far 
from  you,  —  near  Paddington,  in  fact.  It  is 
rather  a  swagger  place,  I  believe ;  Mrs.  Down- 
ing is  the  widow  of  an  old  friend  of  mine, 
who  was  killed  out  in  Africa,  and  she  started 
this  concern  after  his  death.  She  knows 
nothing  about  education,  but  a  great  deal  about 
etiquette,  and  as  this  is  also  the  position  of 
the  mothers  of  most  of  her  pupils,  she  has 
no  difficulty  in  convincing  them  of  her  capa- 
123 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

bilities.  She  is  quite  flourishing  now,  I  be- 
lieve. Can  you  teach  arithmetic  ?  " 

They  discussed  the  vacant  appointment 
solemnly,  with  the  result  that  Katharine 
agreed  to  accept  it  if  Mrs.  Downing  approved 
of  her.  The  salary  was  not  large,  but  she 
had  learnt  by  now  not  to  be  too  particular, 
and  it  offered  her  an  opening,  at  all  events. 

"  I  am  sure  she  will  like  you  all  right.  I 
told  her  about  your  people,  and  so  on,  and  a 
clergyman  is  always  a  guarantee  in  such  cases. 
And  now  for  tea." 

They  talked  about  the  historic  associations 
of  the  Temple  while  the  housekeeper  was 
bringing  in  tea ;  and  they  talked  very  little 
about  anything  after  she  had  left.  Paul  was 
in  one  of  his  unaccountable  silent  moods,  and 
they  were  never  conducive  to  conversation. 
He  roused  himself  a  little  to  show  her  some 
of  his  treasures,  —  an  old  bit  of  tapestry,  some 
Japanese  prints,  a  Bartolozzi ;  but  the  after- 
noon was  not  a  success,  and  his  depression 
soon  communicated  itself  to  Katharine. 

"  I  must  be  going,"  she  said  at  last,  after 
an  awkward  pause  that  he  showed  no  signs 
of  breaking.  They  stood  for  a  moment  in 
the  middle  of  the  room. 

"  It  was  good  of  you  to  come  like  this," 
124 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

he  said,  with  the  slightly  worried  look  he 
always  wore  in  his  morose  moods.  "  I  was 
afraid,  perhaps,  that  I  ought  not  to  have  asked 
you." 

Her  questioning  look  invited  him  to  continue. 

"  Not  being  sure  what  day  you  would 
come,  I  was  unable  to  provide  a  chaperon, 
don't  you  see?  But,  of  course,  if  you  don't 
mind,  that  does  n't  matter." 

"  Of  course  I  don't  mind,"  she  said,  with 
a  reassuring  smile.  "  Why  should  I  ?  I  know 
you  so  well,  don't  I  ? " 

He  continued  his  explanation,  as  though 
he  had  decided  to  make  it  beforehand,  and 
did  not  mean  to  be  deterred  by  her  unwilling- 
ness to  hear  it. 

"  Under  the  circumstances,"  he  said  gravely, 
"  you  will  see  that  it  would  be  wiser  for  you 
not  to  come  here  again." 

Katharine  did  not  see,  and  she  showed  it 
in  her  face. 

"  If  I  were  married,"  he  continued,  in  a 
lighter  tone,  "  it  would  be  different ;  but 
there  are  many  reasons  which  have  made  it 
impossible  for  me  to  marry,  and  there  are  still 
more  now,  which  will  prevent  my  ever  doing 
so.  And  since  I  am  a  bachelor,  it  is  obviously 
better  for  you  to  keep  away." 
125 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

In  spite  of  his  assumed  carelessness,  Katharine 
felt  instinctively  that  it  was  to  hear  this  that 
he  had  asked  her  to  come  and  see  him  to-day. 
And,  like  many  another  woman  who  has  to 
face  as  embarrassing  a  disclosure  from  a  man, 
her  great  desire  at  the  moment  was  to  conceal 
that  she  had  ever  entertained  the  idea  of  his 
marrying  her  at  all. 

"  But  does  it  matter,  so  long  as  I  don't 
mind  ? "  she  asked,  pulling  on  her  gloves  for 
the  sake  of  the  occupation.  He  bent  down 
to  button  them  for  her,  and  their  eyes  met. 
"  Let  me  come  again,"  she  said  impulsively. 
"You  know  I  think  propriety  is  all  rubbish. 
Besides,  I  want  to  come.  We  can  go  on 
being  friends,  can't  we  ?  /  don't  care  what 
other  people  think  !  " 

"  I  only  care  for  your  sake,  not  for  my 
own.  No,  child,  it  is  safer  not ;  you  are  not 
the  sort.  Don't  think  any  more  about  it.  I 
am  old  enough  to  be  your  father,  and  have 
seen  more  of  the  world  than  you.  I  would 
not  allow  you,  if  you  did  wish  it." 

"  It  is  all  rubbish,"  repeated  Katharine. 
"  Why  am  I  not  the  sort  ?  I  don't  under- 
stand ;  I  am  tired  of  being  told  that.  If  that 
is  all,  I  —  I  wish  I  were  !  " 

Paul  half  wished  it  too,  as  she  stood  there 
126 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

in  the  firelight,  with  the  glow  all  over  her 
face  and  hair ;  but  he  laughed  away  the 
thought. 

"  You  are  an  absurd  child ;  you  don't  know 
what  you  are  saying.  It  is  lucky  there  is  no 
one  else  to  hear  you.  There,  go  away,  and 
make  it  up  with  young  Morton !  Oh,  no, 
I  know  nothing  whatever  about  it,  I  swear  I 
don't;  but  he  won't  do  you  any  harm,  and 
he  is  n't  old,  and  worn  out,  and  — " 

"  Don't,  please  don't !  "  said  Katharine,  im- 
ploringly. "  Ted  is  only  like  my  brother ; 
I  love  him,  but  it  is  altogether  different. 
May  n't  I  really  see  you  any  more  ? " 

She  was  threatening  to  become  unpleasantly 
serious,  and  Paul  switched  on  the  electric  light 
and  fetched  his  coat  hastily. 

"  Why,  surely,  lots  of  times,  I  expect. 
What  a  desperately  solemn  person  you  are! 
I  believe  you  work  too  hard,  don't  you  ? 
Now,  I  am  not  going  to  let  you  walk  to  the 
station  alone,  so  come  along." 

And  Katharine  realised,  with  a  hot  blush, 
that  she  had  made  a  second  blunder. 


127 


CHAPTER   VIII 

THE  lady  principal  of  the  school  near  Pad- 
dington  had  too  high  an  opinion  of  her  dis- 
tinguished and  influential  friend,  Mr.  Wilton, 
to  refuse  a  teacher  who  was  so  warmly  recom- 
mended by  him,  more  especially  as  her  junior 
mistress  had  left  her  most  inconveniently  in 
the  middle  of  term  ;  so  Katharine  found  her- 
self installed  there,  about  three  weeks  before 
the  Easter  holidays,  with  a  class  of  thirty  chil- 
dren in  her  sole  charge.  The  teaching  was 
only  elementary,  but  there  was  plenty  to  be 
done  ;  and  she  soon  found  that,  although  she 
was  ostensibly  only  wanted  in  the  mornings, 
she  had  to  spend  most  of  her  afternoons  also 
in  correcting  exercises.  But  the  work  in- 
terested her,  and  she  had  no  difficulty  in 
managing  the  children,  —  a  fact  which  surprised 
her  as  much  as  it  did  Mrs.  Downing,  who  had 
expected  very  little  from  her  youthful  look- 
ing teacher,  in  spite  of  her  recommendation 
by  Mr.  Wilton.  Mrs.  Downing  was-  a  well- 

128 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

dressed  little  woman,  with  charming  manners 
and  an  unbounded  belief  in  herself.  By  reso- 
lutely playing  on  the  weaknesses  of  others, 
she  concealed  her  own  shallowness  of  mind ; 
and  she  made  up  for  her  lack  of  brains  by 
contriving  to  have  clever  people  always  about 
her.  She  had  chatted  herself  into  a  fashionable 
and  paying  connection  in  that  part  of  Bays- 
water  which  calls  itself  Hyde  Park;  and  if  she 
employed  tact  and  dissimulation  in  order  to 
entrap  the  mothers  of  the  neighbourhood,  she 
was,  to  do  her  justice,  genuine  in  her  love  of 
their  children.  Katharine  would  have  found  it 
difficult  to  like  such  a  woman,  had  not  a  two 
months'  sojourn  with  working  gentlewomen 
taught  her  to  tolerate  weaknesses  which  would 
formerly  have  excited  her  contempt ;  and  she 
endured  her  smiles  and  her  blandishments 
with  a  stoicism  that  arose  from  a  knowledge 
of  their  harmlessness.  But  Mrs.  Downing 
remained  in  ignorance  of  the  fact  that  her 
youngest  teacher,  with  the  serious  face  and  the 
childish  manner,  was  able  to  see  right  through 
her ;  and  the  impenetrability  which  saved  her 
from  feeling  a  snub,  also  spared  her  the  knowl- 
edge that  Katharine  was  laughing  at  her. 

One  morning,  about  a  week   after  she  had 
begun  her  work  as   junior  teacher,   Katharine 
9  129 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

was  interrupted  in  the  middle  of  her  first  les- 
son by  the  precipitate  entrance  of  the  lady 
principal. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Austen,"  she  began  effu- 
sively, and  then  paused  suddenly ;  for  there  was 
something  about  Katharine,  in  spite  of  her 
youthful  look,  which  warned  intruders  that  she 
was  not  to  be  interrupted  so  lightly  as  the  other 
teachers.  On  this  occasion  she  finished  ex- 
plaining to  the  children  that  saying  Mary 
Howard  was  "  in  the  second  piano  "  did  not 
accurately  express  the  fact  that  Mary  Howard 
was  practising  in  the  second  music-room  ;  and 
then  turned  to  see  who  had  come  in. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Austen,"  began  Mrs. 
Downing  again,  "  so  good  of  you  to  look  after 
their  English  ;  they  are  apt  to  be  so  careless  !  I 
am  always  telling  them  of  it  myself,  am  I  not, 
dear  children  ?  Ah,  Carry,  what  an  exquisite 
rose;  such  colouring;  beautiful,  beautiful !  For 
me  ?  Thanks,  my  sweet  child  ;  that  is  so  dear 
of  you  !  My  dear  Miss  Austen,  you  are  so 
obliging  always,  and  my  literature  lecturer  has 
suddenly  disappointed  me,  and  the  first  class 
will  have  nothing  to  do  in  the  next  hour.  So 
tiresome  of  Mr.  Fletcher  !  His  wife  is  ill,  and 
he  is  such  a  good  husband,  —  quite  a  model  ! 
So  I  have  set  them  an  essay  ;  I  cannot  bear  to 
130 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

have  the  ordinary  work  interrupted ;  and 
would  you  be  so  good  as  to  leave  the  door 
open  between  the  two  rooms,  and  give  them  a 
little,  just  a  little  supervision  ?  That  is  so 
dear  of  you ;  it  has  taken  a  load  off  my  mind. 
Dear  children,  listen  with  all  your  might  to 
everything  Miss  Austen  has  to  say,  and  you 
will  soon  be  so  clever  and  so  wise  —  I  beg  your 
pardon,  Miss  Austen  ?  " 

"Is  n't  it  rather  a  pity  for  them  to  miss  their 
lecture  altogether  ?  "  said  Katharine,  in  the  first 
breathing  space.  "  I  mean,  I  could  give  them 
one  if  you  liked,  on  something  else.  My  class 
is  being  drilled  in  the  next  hour,  and  I  have 
nothing  particular  to  do." 

"  But  I  should  be  charmed,  delighted ; 
nothing  could  be  more  opportune  !  My  dear 
Miss  Austen,  I  have  found  a  treasure  in  you. 
Children,  you  must  make  the  most  of  your 
teacher  while  she  is  with  you,  for  I  shall  have 
to  take  her  away  from  you,  quite  soon  !  Miss 
Austen,  I  shall  come  and  listen  to  your  lecture 
myself.  I  will  go  and  prepare  the  girls  —  " 

"  I  think,  perhaps,  something  quite  different 
would  be  best,"  said  Katharine,  detaining  her 
with  difficulty.  "  Would  you  like  it  to  be  on 
Gothic  architecture  ?  " 

Mrs.  Downing  did  not  know  the  difference 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

between  a  pinnacle  and  a  buttress,  but  she  has- 
tened to  say  she  would  like  Gothic  architecture 
better  than  anything  else  in  the  world,  and 
had,  in  fact,  been  on  the  point  of  suggesting  it 
herself;  after  which,  she  went  to  interrupt 
the  first  class  also,  and  Katharine  devoted  her 
energies  to  collecting  the  wandering  attention 
of  her  own  pupils. 

At  the  end  of  her  lecture  the  lady  principal 
hastened  up  to  her. 

"  How  extremely  interesting,  to  be  sure ! 
I  had  no  idea  those  vaults,  and  pillars,  and 
things,  were  so  beautiful  before.  Where 
did  you  find  out  all  that  ?  I  should  like  to 
learn  it  up  myself  in  the  holidays,  and  give 
a  course  of  lessons  on  it  to  the  first  class 
next  term." 

Katharine  tried  not  to  smile. 

"  I  have  been  learning  it  all  my  life,  from 
my  father.  I  don't  think  I  know  any  text- 
books ;  it  would  be  difficult  to  read  it  up  in  a 
hurry,  I  should  think."  But  the  lady  prin- 
cipal never  allowed  herself  to  be  thwarted, 
when  she  had  a  fresh  idea.  Besides,  Gothic 
architecture  was  quite  new,  and  would  be  sure 
to  take  in  the  neighbourhood. 

"  Then  you  must  give  a  course  yourself  to 
the  whole  school,  my  dear  Miss  Austen,"  she 

132 


The   Making  of  a    Prig 

exclaimed.       "  I   insist   upon  it ;    and   we   will 
begin  the  first  Wednesday  of  next  term." 

Anything  that  promised  an  addition  to  her 
salary  was  sure  to  be  agreeable  to  Katharine, 
and  she  was  only  too  pleased  to  agree.  But, 
meanwhile,  her  finances  were  in  a  deplorable 
condition.  She  found  herself  with  nothing  but 
the  change  out  of  half  a  sovereign,  about  ten 
days  before  the  end  of  the  term  ;  and  although 
she  could  easily  have  asked  Miss  Jennings  to 
give  her  credit  until  she  received  her  salary,  she 
had  all  a  woman's  hyper-sensitiveness  of  con- 
science, and  all  her  disregard  of  the  importance 
of  food  as  well ;  and  she  resolutely  set  to  work 
to  starve  herself  during  those  ten  days.  For- 
tunately, she  was  constitutionally  strong,  and 
she  never  reached  the  stage  of  privation  when 
food  becomes  distasteful ;  but  there  was  little 
consolation  for  her  in  the  fact  that  she  remained 
healthily  hungry  all  the  time,  and  had  to  run 
past  the  pastry-cooks'  shops  to  escape  their 
seductive  display.  Long  walks  at  supper  time 
did  not  compensate  for  a  meal  that  was  satisfy- 
ing, if  it  was  not  very  tempting ;  and  the  irony 
of  it  all  was  forced  upon  her  with  a  somewhat 
grim  significance  by  something  that  occurred, 
when  she  came  up  to  bed  one  evening,  tired 
out  and  dispirited.  She  noticed  that  the  girls 
133 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

stopped  talking  directly  she  entered  the  room  ; 
but  this  would  not  have  aroused  her  suspicions, 
if  Phyllis  Hyam  had  not  made  a  point  of  con- 
versing vigorously  with  her  through  the  cur- 
tains, and  being  more  brusque  than  usual  when 
the  others  tried  to  interrupt  her. 

"  Good  old  Phyllis,"  reflected  Katharine. 
"  They  have  evidently  been  abusing  me.  I 
wonder  what  I  have  done ! " 

Phyllis  enlightened  her  somewhat  unwill- 
ingly, the  next  morning,  when  the  others  had 
gone  down  to  breakfast. 

"  Don't  bother  about  them ;  /  would  n't. 
Mean  cats!  It 's  jealousy,  of  course.  Fact  is, 
Polly  saw  you  in  a  hansom  with  a  man,  some 
time  back  ;  she  came  home  full  of  it.  Said  you 
were  no  better  than  the  rest  of  us,  after  all.  I 
said  you  never  pretended  to  be  ;  it  was  our  own 
look  out,  if  we  chose  to  think  so.  Besides,  it 
was  most  likely  your  brother,  I  said.  Polly 
said  it  was  n't ;  you  looked  so  happy,  and  he 
was  smiling  at  you." 

"  Conclusive  evidence,"  murmured  Katha- 
rine, with  her  mouth  full  of  hair-pins.  "  Did 
she  describe  the  gentleman  in  question  ?  It 
might  be  useful  for  future  identification." 

"  Oh,  yes,  she  did  !  Said  he  was  rather  like 
a  corpse  with  a  black  beard ;  had  a  flavour  of 

134 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

dead  loves  about  him,  I  think  she  said  ;  but  I 
don't  quite  know  what  she  was  driving  at. 
And  I  'm  sure  I  don't  care." 

"  I  do.  It  is  most  entertaining.  Was  that 
all  they  said  ?  " 

Phyllis  hesitated,  said  she  was  not  going  to 
tell  any  more,  and  finally  told  every  detail. 

"  I  said  they  were  mean,  despicable  liars, 
especially  Polly,  considering  how  much  you 
have  done  for  her !  And  I  said  that  if  ever  I 
had  the  chance  —  " 

"  But  what  did  they  say  ? "  interrupted 
Katharine. 

"  Oh,  bother !  what  does  it  matter  ?  They 
are  a  pack  of  mean  sneaks.  They  said  you 
were  never  in  to  lunch  now,  or  supper  either ; 
and  Polly  was  sure  she  had  seen  you  walking 
with  some  one,  only  yesterday  evening,  and 
that  you  went  into  a  restaurant  with  him  ;  and 
she  declares  you  see  him  every  day,  and  that 
you  are  going  all  wrong.  I  said  I  should  like 
to  kill  her.  And  they  all  said  you  must  have 
gone  wrong,  because  you  are  never  in  to  sup- 
per now.  I  said  I  should  like  to  kill  them 
all  for  telling  such  a  false  lie,  whether  it  was 
true  or  not !  It  is  n't  their  business  whether 
you  choose  to  come  in  to  supper  or  not,  is  it  ? 
And  then  you  came  in,  and  —  Why,  whatever 
135 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

is  the  joke  now  ?  Mercy  me  ;  I  thought  you 
would  be  furious  !  " 

For,  of  course,  it  was  not  to  be  supposed 
that  she  should  know  why  Katharine  was  roll- 
ing on  her  bed  in  a  paroxysm  of  laughter. 

But  the  holidays  came  at  last,  and  she  con- 
gratulated herself  proudly  on  not  having  given 
in  once.  She  left  school  on  the  last  day  of  the 
term  with  a  light  heart ;  everything  had  made 
her  laugh  that  morning,  from  the  children's 
jubilation  at  the  coming  holiday,  to  Mrs. 
Downing's  characteristic  farewell.  "  Don't 
overwork  in  the  holidays,  my  dear  Miss 
Austen,"  she  had  said,  shaking  Katharine 
warmly  by  both  hands.  "  You  look  quite 
worn  out ;  I  am  afraid  you  take  things  a  little 
too  seriously,  do  you  not  ?  When  you  have 
had  my  experience  in  school  work,  you  will 
think  nothing  of  a  class  like  yours  !  Perhaps 
you  do  not  eat  enough  ?  Take  my  advice,  and 
try  maltine ;  it  is  an  excellent  tonic  for  the 
appetite  !  "  And  Katharine  walked  out  into 
the  sunshine  and  the  warm  air,  with  a  feeling 
of  joy  at  the  thought  of  the  cheque  she  was  to 
receive  on  the  morrow.  There  was  only  one  more 
day  of  privation  for  her  ;  and  she  called  herself 
greedy  for  thinking  about  it,  and  laughed  at  her 
own  greediness,  all  in  the  same  breath.  She 
136 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

might  easily  have  humbled  her  pride  and  gone 
home  to  lunch  like  a  rational  being,  now  that 
she  saw  her  way  to  paying  for  it ;  but  such  a 
weakness  as  that  never  entered  her  head  for 
a  moment,  and  she  walked  gaily  on  instead, 
weaving  a  rosy  dream  of  the  feast  she  would 
have  if  her  pocket  were  full  of  money.  But 
it  was  nearly  empty,  and  she  only  found  two- 
pence there  when  she  put  her  hand  in  to  feel ; 
and  she  jingled  the  coppers  together,  and 
laughed  again,  and  hurried  on  a  little  faster. 
At  Hyde  Park  Corner  a  beggar  pursued  her 
with  his  studied  tale  of  distress :  he  had  no 
home,  he  whined,  and  he  had  eaten  nothing  for 
days.  "Just  my  case,"  said  Katharine  cheer- 
fully, and  a  spirit  of  recklessness  impelled  her 
to  drop  the  two  pennies  into  his  grimy  palm, 
and  then  hasten  on  as  before. 

"  Well  met,"  said  a  voice  behind  her.  "  But 
what  a  hurry  you  are  in,  to  be  sure  !  Where 
are  you  off  to,  now  ?  " 

She  looked  round  and  saw  Paul  Wilton, 
smiling  unaffectedly  at  her  in  a  way  that 
recalled  the  old  days  at  Ivingdon.  Perhaps, 
the  fine  day  had  influenced  him  too ;  certainly, 
he  had  not  been  starving  for  a  fortnight,  nor 
would  he  have  seen  the  humour  of  it,  probably, 
if  he  had.  But  these  reflections  did  not  occur 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

to  Katharine;  it  was  enough  for  her  that  he 
looked  more  pleased  than  usual,  and  that  his 
manner  had  lost  its  constraint. 

"  I  am  not  going  anywhere.  The  spring 
has  got  into  my  head,  that 's  all ;  and  I  felt 
obliged  to  walk.  Besides,  it  is  the  first  day 
of  my  first  holidays ! "  and  she  laughed  out 
joyously. 

"  Yes  ?  You  look  very  jolly  over  it,  any 
way.  Have  you  lunched  yet?" 

"Yes, —  I  mean,  no.  I  don't  want  any 
lunch  to-day,"  she  said  hastily.  "  Don't  let  us 
talk  about  lunch  ;  it  spoils  it  so." 

"  But,  my  dear  child,  I  really  must  talk 
about  it.  I  have  had  nothing  to  eat  since  sup- 
per last  night,  and  I  am  going  to  have  some 
lunch  now.  You  Ve  got  to  come  along,  too,  so 
don't  make  any  more  objections.  I  'm  not  a 
healthy  young  woman  like  you,  and  I  can't  eat 
my  three  courses  at  breakfast,  and  then  fast 
until  it  is  time  to  spoil  my  digestion  by  after- 
noon tea.  Where  shall  we  go  ?  Suppose  you 
stop  chuckling  for  a  moment  and  make  a 
suggestion." 

"  But  I  don't  know  any  places,  and  I  don't 
really  want  anything  to  eat,"  protested  Katha- 
rine. She  would  not  have  been  so  independent, 
if  she  had  been  a  little  less  hungry.  "There's 

138 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

a  confectioner's  along  here,  that  always  looks 
rather  nice,"  she  added,  remembering  one  she 
had  often  passed  lately  with  a  lingering  look  at 
its  attractive  contents. 

"  Nonsense  !  that 's  only  a  shop.  Have  you 
ever  been  in  here  ?  " 

Katharine  confessed  that  she  had  never 
lunched  at  a  restaurant  before  ;  and  the  savoury 
smell  that  greeted  them  as  they  entered  re- 
minded her  how  very  hungry  she  was,  and 
drove  away  her  last  impulse  to  object. 

"  Never  ?  Why,  what  has  Ted  been  up  to  ? 
Now,  you  have  got  to  say  what  you  like  ;  this 
is  your  merrymaking,  you  know,  because  it  is 
the  first  day  of  the  holidays." 

"  Oh,  but  I  can't ;  you  must  do  all  that, 
please.  You  don't  know  how  beautiful  it  is  to 
be  taken  care  of  again." 

"  Is  it  ?  "  They  smiled  at  each  other  across 
the  little  table,  and  the  old  understanding 
sprang  up  between  them. 

"  You  're  looking  very  charming,"  he  said, 
when  he  had  given  the  waiter  his  preliminary 
instructions.  "  You  may  abuse  the  food  at 
your  place  as  much  as  you  like,  but  it  certainly 
seems  to  agree  with  you." 

"  I  don't  think,"  said   Katharine  carelessly, 
"  that  it  has  anything  to  do  with  the  food." 
139 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  Of  course  not ;  my  mistake.  No  doubt 
it  is  natural  charm  triumphing  over  difficulties. 
Try  some  of  this,  to  begin  with ;  bootlaces  or 
sardines  ?  " 

Katharine  looked  perplexed. 

"  What  a  delightful  child  you  are,"  he 
laughed.  "  It 's  to  give  you  an  appetite  for 
the  rest.  I  advise  the  bootlaces.  Nonsense! 
you  must  do  as  you  are  told,  for  a  change.  I 
am  not  one  of  your  pupils.  Besides,  it  is 
the  first  day  of  the  holidays." 

And  Katharine,  who  had  no  desire  for  a 
larger  appetite  than  she  already  possessed,  ate 
the  hors  d'ceuvre  with  a  relish,  and  longed  for 
more,  and  wondered  if  she  should  ever  attain 
to  the  extreme  culture  of  her  companion,  who 
was  playing  delicately  with  the  sardine  on  his 
plate. 

"  Don't  you  ever  feel  hungry  ?  "  she  asked 
him.  "  It  seems  to  add  to  your  isolation  that 
you  have  none  of  the  ordinary  frailties  of  the 
flesh.  I  really  believe  it  would  quite  destroy 
my  illusion  of  you,  if  I  ever  caught  you  enjoy- 
ing a  penny  bun  !  " 

"You  may  preserve  the  illusion,  if  you  like, 
and  remember  that  I  am  not  a  woman.  It  is 
only  women  who  —  Well,  what  is  it  now, 
child?" 

140 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  Do  explain  this,"  she  begged  him,  with  a 
comical  expression  of  dismay.  "  Why  is  it 
red  ?  " 

"  I  should  say  because,  fundamentally,  it  is 
red  mullet.  It  would  never  occur  to  me  to 
inquire  more  deeply  into  it ;  but  the  rest 
is  probably  accounted  for  by  the  carte,  if  you 
understand  French.  Don't  you  think  you  had 
better  approach  it,  fasting  and  with  faith  ?  " 

"  Go  on  about  your  appetite,  please  ;  it  is 
so  awfully  entertaining,"  resumed  Katharine. 
"  I  believe,  if  you  found  yourself  really  hungry 
one  day,  force  of  habit  would  still  make  you 
eat  your  lunch  as  though  you  did  n't  want  it  a 
bit.  Now,  would  n't  it  ?  " 

"  My  dear  Miss  Katharine,  you  have  yet  to 
learn  that  hunger  does  not  give  you  a  desire 
for  more  food,  but  merely  imparts  an  element 
of  pleasure  to  it.  Go  on  with  your  fish,  or 
else  the  entree  will  catch  you  up." 

"  I  am  glad,"  said  Katharine,  in  the  inter- 
val between  the  courses,  "  that  I  'm  not  a  su- 
perior person  like  you.  It  must  be  so  lonely, 
isn't  it?" 

"  What  wine  will  you  drink  ?  White  or 
red  ?  "  asked  Paul  severely. 

"  Living  with  you,"  continued  Katharine, 
leaning  back  and  looking  mischievously  at 
141 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

what  was   visible    of  him    over  the   wine  list, 
"  must  be  exactly  like  living  with  Providence." 

"  Number  five,"  said  Paul  to  the  waiter, 
laying  down  the  wine  list.  Then  he  looked  at 
her,  and  shook  his  head  reprovingly. 

"  You  see  you  don't  live  with  me,  do  you  ?  " 
he  said  drily. 

"  No,"  retorted  Katharine  hastily.  "  I  live 
with  sixty-three  working  gentlewomen,  and 
that  is  a  very  different  matter." 

"  Very,"  he  assented,  looking  so  searchingly 
at  her  that  she  found  herself  beginning  to 
blush.  The  arrival  of  the  wine  made  a 
diversion. 

"  Oh,"  said  Katharine,  "  I  am  quite  sure  I 
can't  drink  any  champagne." 

"  If  you  had  not  been  so  occupied  in  firing 
off  epigrams,  you  might  have  had  some  choice 
in  the  matter.  As  it  is,  you  have  got  to  do  as 
you  are  told." 

He  filled  her  glass,  and  she  felt  that  it  was 
very  pleasant  to  do  as  she  was  told  by  him ; 
and  her  eyes  glistened  as  they  met  his  over  the 
brimming  glasses. 

"I  am  so  happy  to-day,"  she  felt  obliged 
to  tell  him. 

"  That 's  right.  Because  it  is  the  first  day 
of  the  holidays  ?  " 

142 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  Because  you  are  so  nice  to  me,  I  think," 
she  replied  softly ;  and  then  was  afraid  lest 
she  had  said  too  much.  But  he  nodded,  and 
seemed  to  understand ;  and  she  dropped  her 
eyes  suddenly  and  began  crumbling  her  bread. 

"  What  makes  you  so  nice  to  me,  I  wonder," 
she  continued  in  the  same  tone.  This  time  he 
became  matter-of-fact. 

"  The  natural  order  of  the  universe,  I  sup- 
pose. Man  was  created  to  look  after  woman, 
and  woman  to  look  after  man ;  don't  you 
think  so  ?  " 

She  understood  him  well  enough,  by  now, 
to  know  when  to  take  her  tone  from  him. 

"At  all  events,  it  saves  Providence  a  lot  of 
trouble,"  she  said;  and  they  laughed  together. 

Their  lunch  was  a  success  ;  and  Paul  smiled 
at  her  woe-begone  face  when  the  black  coffee 
had  been  brought,  and  she  was  beginning 
slowly  to  remember  that  there  was  still  such  a 
place  as  number  ten,  Queen's  Crescent,  and 
that  it  actually  existed  in  the  same  metrop- 
olis as  the  one  that  contained  this  superb 
restaurant. 

"  It  is  nearly  over,  and  it  has  been  so  beauti- 
ful," she  sighed. 

"Nonsense!  it  has  only  just  begun.  It  is  n't 
time  to  be  dull  yet ;  I  '11  tell  you  when  it  is," 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

said  Paul  briskly ;  and  he  called  for  a  daily 
paper. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? "  gasped  Katharine, 
opening  her  eyes  wide  in  anticipation  of  new 
joys  to  come. 

"  We  're  going  to  a  matinee,  of  course. 
Let 's  see,  —  have  you  any  choice  ?  " 

"  A  theatre  ?  Oh  !  "  cried  Katharine.  Then 
she  reddened  a  little.  "  You  won't  laugh  if  I 
tell  you  something  ?  " 

"  Tell  away,  you  most  childish  of  children  !  " 

"  I  've  never  been  to  a  theatre  before,  either." 

They  looked  at  the  paper  together,  and 
laughed  one  another's  suggestions  to  scorn,  and 
then  found  they  had  only  just  time  to  get  to  the 
theatre  before  it  began.  And  she  sat  through 
the  three  acts  with  her  hand  lying  in  his  ;  and 
to  her  it  was  a  perfect  ending  to  the  most  per- 
fect day  in  her  life.  He  took  her  home  after- 
wards, and  left  her  at  the  corner  of  the  street. 

"  I  won't  come  to  the  door ;  better  not, 
perhaps,"  he  said,  and  his  words  sent  a  sudden 
feeling  of  chill  through  her.  They  seemed  to 
have  fallen  back  into  the  conventional  attitude 
again,  the  most  appropriate  one,  probably,  for 
Edgware  Road,  but  none  the  less  depressing 
on  that  account. 

"You  are  not  going  to  be  sad,  now?"  he 
144 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

added,  half  guessing  her  thoughts.  She  looked 
up  in  his  face  and  made  an  effort  to  be  bright. 

"  It  has  been  beautiful  all  the  time,"  she 
said.  "  I  never  knew  anything  could  be  so 
beautiful  before." 

"  Ah,"  he  said,  smiling  back  ;  "  it  is  the  first 
day  of  your  first  holidays,  you  see.  We  will 
do  it  again  some  day."  But  she  knew  as  he 
spoke  that  they  never  could  do  it  again. 

She  saw  him  occasionally  during  the  Easter 
holidays.  He  sent  for  her  once  about  a  pupil 
he  had  managed  to  procure  her,  and  once 
about  some  drawing-room  lectures  he  tried  to 
arrange  for  her,  and  which  fell  through.  But 
on  both  these  occasions  he  was  in  his  silent 
mood,  and  she  came  away  infected  by  his  dul- 
ness.  Then  she  met  him  one  day  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Queen's  Crescent,  and  they  had 
a  few  minutes'  conversation  in  the  noise  and 
bustle  of  the  street,  that  left  her  far  happier 
than  she  had  been  after  a  tete-a-tete  in  his 
chambers. 

She  went  home  for  a  few  days,  at  the  end  of 
her  holidays,  but  her  visit  was  not  altogether 
a  success.  It  was  a  shock  to  her  to  find  that 
home  was  no  longer  the  same,  now  that  she 
had  once  left  it ;  and  she  did  not  quite  realise 

that  the  change  was  in  herself  as  much  as  in 
10  I45 


The  Making   of  a   Prig 

those  she  had  left  behind  her.  Her  father  had 
grown  accustomed  to  living  without  her,  and 
it  hurt  her  pride  to  find  that  she  was  no  longer 
indispensable  to  him.  Her  old  occupations 
seemed  gone,  and  there  was  no  time  to  substi- 
tute new  ones ;  she  told  herself  bitterly  that 
she  had  no  place  in  her  own  home,  and  that 
she  had  burnt  her  ships  when  she  went  out  to 
make  herself  a  new  place  in  the  world.  Iving- 
don  seemed  narrower  in  its  sympathies  and 
duller  than  ever ;  she  wondered  how  people 
could  go  on  living  with  so  few  ideas  in  their 
minds,  and  so  few  topics  of  conversation ;  even 
the  Rector  irritated  her  by  his  want  of  interest 
in  her  experiences  and  by  his  utter  absorption 
in  his  own  concerns.  Miss  Esther  added  to 
her  feeling  of  strangeness  by  treating  her  with 
elaborate  consideration  ;  she  would  have  given 
anything  to  be  scolded  instead,  for  being  pro- 
fane, or  for  lying  on  the  hearthrug.  But  they 
persisted  in  regarding  her  as  a  child  no  longer ; 
and  she  felt  graver  and  more  responsible  at 
home,  than  she  had  done  all  the  time  she  was 
working  for  her  living  in  London. 

On  the  whole,  she  was  glad  when  school  be- 
gan again  ;  and  she  grew  much  happier  when 
she  found  herself  once  more  engrossed  in  the 
term's  work,  which  had  now  increased  very 

146 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

materially,  owing  to  her  own  efforts  as  well  as 
to  those  of  Paul.  Of  him,  she  only  had  occa- 
sional glimpses  during  the  next  few  weeks ; 
but  they  were  enough  to  keep  their  friendship 
warm,  and  she  soon  found  herself  scribbling 
little  notes  to  him,  when  she  had  anything  to 
tell,  —  generally  about  some  small  success  of 
hers  which  she  felt  obliged  to  confide  to  some 
one,  and  liked  best  of  all  to  confide  to  him. 
Sometimes  he  did  not  answer  them ;  and  she 
sighed,  and  took  the  hint  to  write  no  more 
for  a  time.  And  sometimes  he  wrote  back 
one  of  his  ceremonious  replies,  which  she  had 
learnt  to  welcome  as  the  most  characteristic 
thing  he  could  have  sent  her ;  for,  in  his  let- 
ters, Paul  never  lost  his  formality.  It  was  a 
very  satisfactory  friendship  on  both  sides,  with 
enough  familiarity  to  give  it  warmth,  and  not 
enough  to  make  it  disquieting.  But  it  received 
an  unexpected  check  towards  the  middle  of 
June,  through  an  incident  that  was  slight 
enough  in  itself,  though  sufficient  to  set  both 
of  them  thinking.  And  to  stop  and  think  in 
the  course  of  a  friendship,  especially  when  it  is 
between  a  man  and  a  woman,  is  generally  the 
forerunner  of  a  misunderstanding. 

It  was  the  first  hot  weather  that  year.     May 
had  been  disappointingly  cold  and  wet,  after 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

the  promise  of  the  month  before,  but  June 
came  in  with  a  burst  of  sunshine  that  lasted 
long  enough  to  justify  the  papers  in  talking 
about  the  drought.  On  one  of  the  first  fine 
days,  Paul  was  lazily  smoking  in  his  arm-chair 
after  a  late  breakfast,  when  a  knock  at  his 
outer  door  roused  him  unpleasantly  from  a 
reverie  that  had  threatened  to  become  a  nap  ; 
and  he  rose  slowly  to  his  feet  with  something 
like  a  muttered  imprecation.  Then  he  re- 
membered that  he  had  left  the  door  open  for 
the  sake  of  the  draught,  and  he  shouted  a 
brief  "  Come  in,"  and  sank  back  again  into 
his  chair.  A  light  step  crossed  the  threshold, 
and  paused  close  behind  him. 

"  Who  's  there  ?  "  asked  Paul,  without  mov- 
ing. 

"  Well,  you  are  cross.  And  on  a  morning 
like  this,  too  !  " 

Paul  got  up  again,  with  rather  more  than 
his  usual  show  of  energy,  and  turned  and 
stared  at  his  visitor. 

"  Really,  Katharine,"  he  said,  with  a  slowly 
dawning  smile  of  amusement. 

"  Oh,  I  know  all  that,"  exclaimed  Katha- 
rine, with  an  impatient  gesture.  "  But  the 
sun  was  shining,  and  I  had  to  come,  and 
you  '11  Jiave  to  put  up  with  it." 

148 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

Paul  looked  as  though  he  should  have  no 
difficulty  in  putting  up  with  it;  and  he  went 
outside,  and  sported  his  oak. 

"  Won't  you  sit  down,  and  tell  me  why  you 
have  come  ? "  he  suggested,  when  he  came 
back  again.  Katharine  dropped  into  a  chair, 
and  laughed. 

"  How  can  you  ask  ?  Why,  it  is  my  half- 
term  holiday ;  and  the  sun's  shining.  Look  !" 

"  I  believe  it  is,  yes,"  he  said,  glancing 
towards  the  gently  flapping  blind.  "  Has 
that  got  anything  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"  Of  course  it  has.  I  believe,  I  do  believe 
you  never  would  have  known  it  was  a  fine  day 
at  all,  if  I  had  not  come  to  see  you  ! " 

"  I  can  hardly  believe  that  you  did  come 
to  see  me  for  the  purpose  of  telling  me  it 
was  a  fine  day,"  said  Paul. 

Katharine  leaned  over  the  back  of  her  chair, 
and  nodded  at  him. 

"  Guess  why  I  did  come,"  she  said.  He 
shook  his  head  lazily.  She  imparted  the  rest 
of  her  news  in  little  instalments,  to  give  it 
more  emphasis.  "  It 's  my  half-term  holiday," 
she  said  again,  and  paused  to  watch  the  effect 
of  her  words. 

"  I  think  I  heard  you  say  that  before,"  he 
observed. 

149 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  And  I  'm  going  into  the  country  for  the 
whole  day." 

"  Yes  ?  "  said  Paul,  who  did  not  seem 
impressed. 

"  And  I  want  you  to  come  too.  There  ! 
don't  you  think  it  was  worth  a  visit  ?  "  Her 
laugh  rang  out,  and  filled  the  little  room. 
Paul  was  stroking  his  beard  reflectively,  but 
he  did  not  seem  vexed. 

"  Really,  Katharine,"  he  said  once  more. 

"  Oh,  now,  don't  be  musty,"  she  pleaded, 
resting  her  chin  on  her  hands.  "  I  just 
want  to  do  something  jolly  to-day ;  and  I  've 
never  asked  you  anything  before,  have  I  ? 
Do,  please,  Mr.  Wilton.  I  won't  bother  you 
again  for  ever  so  long;  I  promise  you  I 
won't." 

"  Are  you  aware,"  said  Paul,  frowning, 
"  that  it  is  not  customary  to  come  and  visit 
a  man  in  his  chambers  in  this  uninvited 
manner  ?  " 

"  You  know  quite  well,"  retorted  Katharine, 
"  that  nothing  ever  matters,  if  I  do  it." 

"  Of  course  I  know  that  you  are  beyond 
the  taint  of  scandal,  or  the  — " 

She  started  up  impatiently,  and  came  over 
to  the  side  of  his  arm-chair. 

"  Don't  begin  to  be  sarcastic.  I  never  can 
150 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

think  of  the  word  I  want,  when  you  get  sar- 
castic. I  am  not  beyond  anything,  and  I  am 
certainly  not  above  asking  you  a  favour. 
Now,  if  you  were  to  stop  being  superior  for 
a  few  minutes  —  " 

"  And  if  you  were  to  stop  standing  on  one 
leg,  and  swinging  the  other  about  in  that  juve- 
nile manner,  a  catastrophe  might  be  —  " 

She  seized  a  cushion  and  tried  to  smother 
him  with  it ;  but  he  was  too  quick  for  her, 
and  the  cushion  went  spinning  to  the  other 
end  of  the  room,  and  she  found  herself  pulled 
on  to  his  knee. 

"  You  dreadful  child !  It  is  too  hot,  and 
I  am  too  old  for  romping  in  this  fashion,"  he 
observed  lazily. 

"  Are  you  coming  ? "  she  asked  abruptly. 
She  was  playing  with  his  watch  chain,  and 
he  did  not  quite  know  what  to  make  of  her 
face. 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  ?  "   he  asked  gently. 

"Of  course  I  do,"  she  said,  in  a  swift  little 
whisper ;  and  her  fingers  strayed  up  to  his 
scarf  pin,  and  touched  his  beard. 

"  I  am  being  dreadfully  improper,"  she  said. 

"  You  are  being  very  nice,"  he  replied,  and 
weakly  kissed  her  fingers.  She  did  not  move, 
and  he  gave  her  a  little  shake. 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  What  a  solemn  child  you  are,"  he  com- 
plained. "  It  is  impossible  to  play  with  you, 
because  you  always  take  one  so  seriously." 

"  I  know,"  said  Katharine,  rousing  herself 
and  looking  penitent.  "  I  am  so  sorry  !  I  am 
made  that  way,  I  think.  It  used  to  annoy 
Ted.  I  think  it  is  because  I  never  had  any 
fun  at  home,  or  any  one  to  play  with,  except 
Ted.  And  then  I  began  to  earn  my  living, 
and  so  I  never  had  time  to  be  frivolous  at 
all.  I  suppose  I  am  too  old  to  begin,  now." 

"  Much  too  old,"  smiled  Paul. 

A  knock  came  at  the  outer  door.  Paul  put 
her  away  from  him  almost  roughly,  and  glanced 
with  a  disturbed  look  round  the  room. 

"  You  had  better  stay  here,"  he  said  shortly, 
tc  and  keep  quiet  till  I  come  back." 

"  Who  is  it  ?  "  asked  Katharine,  in  some 
bewilderment. 

"  I  don't  know.  You  don't  understand," 
was  all  he  said  ;  and  he  went  out  and  spoke 
for  a  few  minutes  to  a  man  on  the  landing. 

"  It  was  about  a  brief,"  he  said  on  his  re- 
turn. He  still  frowned  a  little,  and  she  felt, 
regretfully,  that  his  genial  mood  had  fled. 

"  Was  that  all  ?  Would  n't  he  come  in  ?  " 
she  asked. 

Paul  looked  at  her  incredulously. 
152 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

"  It  was  n't  likely  that  I  should  ask  him," 
he  said,  turning  his  back  to  her,  and  rumma- 
ging among  the  papers  on  his  desk.  The  colour 
came  into  her  face,  and  she  was  conscious  of 
having  said  something  tactless,  without  exactly 
knowing  what. 

"  Shall  I  go  away  again  ?  "  she  asked  slowly. 
The  joy  seemed  suddenly  to  have  been  taken 
out  of  her  half-term  holiday. 

"  You  see,  it  is  not  for  myself  that  I  mind," 
he  tried  to  explain  quietly ;  "  but  if  you  were 
to  be  seen  in  here  alone,  it  would  do  for  your 
reputation  at  once,  don't  you  see  ?  " 

Katharine  looked  as  though  she  did  not 
see. 

"  But,  surely,  there  is  no  harm  in  my  com- 
ing here  ?  "  she  protested. 

"  Of  course  not ;  no  harm  at  all.  It  is  n't 
that,"  said  Paul  hastily. 

"  Then,"  said  Katharine,  "  if  there  is  no 
harm  in  it,  why  should  I  not  come  ?  It  is 
all  rubbish,  is  n't  it  ?  I  won't  come  any  more 
if  it  bothers  you  ;  but  that  is  another  matter." 

"  My  dear  child,  do  be  reasonable !  It  is 
not  a  question  of  my  feelings  at  all.  I  like 
you  to  come,  but  I  don't  want  other  people 
to  know  that  you  do,  because  of  what  they 
might  say.  It  is  for  your  sake  entirely  that 
153 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

I  wish  you  to  be  careful.  That  is  why  I 
don't  come  to  see  you  at  your  place.  Do 
you  see  now  ?  " 

Katharine  shook  her  head. 

"  It  is  either  wrong,  or  it  is  n't  wrong," 
she  said  obstinately.  "  I  never  dreamed  that 
there  could  be  any  harm  in  my  coming  to  see 
you,  or  I  should  not  have  come.  And  it  was 
so  pleasant,  and  you  have  always  been  so  nice 
to  me.  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  before  ?  I 
don't  see  how  it  can  be  wrong,  and  yet  it 
can't  be  right,  if  I  have  got  to  pretend  to 
other  people  that  I  don't  come.  I  hate  hid- 
ing things ;  I  don't  like  the  feel  of  it.  I 
wish  I  could  understand  what  you  mean." 

"  It  is  quite  easy  to  understand,"  said  Paul, 
beginning  to  realise  that  his  case,  as  stated  baldly 
by  Katharine,  was  a  very  lame  one.  "  It  is  not 
wrong,  as  far  as  you  and  I  are  concerned;  but 
it  is  a  hell  of  a  world,  and  people  will  talk." 

It  was  strong  language  for  him  to  use  ;  and 
she  felt  again  that  it  was  her  stupidity  that 
was  annoying  him.  She  sighed,  and  her  voice 
trembled  a  little. 

"  I  don't  see  what  it  has  to  do  with  other 
people  at  all.  It  is  quite  enough  for  me,  if 
you  like  me  to  come  ;  and  as  for  my  reputa- 
tion, it  seems  to  exist  solely  for  the  sake  of 

154 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

the  other  people,  so  they  may  as  well  say 
what  they  like  about  it.  /  don't  care.  It  is 
horrible  of  you  to  suggest  such  a  lot  of  hor- 
rible ideas.  According  to  you,  I  ought  to  be 
feeling  ashamed  of  myself;  but —  I  don't." 

"  Of  course  you  don't,"  said  Paul,  smiling 
in  spite  of  himself;  and  he  put  his  hand  out 
and  drew  her  towards  him.  She  was  only 
a  child,  he  told  himself,  and  he  was  old  enough 
to  be  her  father. 

"  My  dear  little  puritan,"  he  added  softly, 
"  you  were  never  made  to  live  in  the  world  as 
it  is.  If  all  women  were  like  you,  good 
heavens  !  there  would  n't  be  any  sin  left." 

"  And  I  believe  you  would  be  sorry  for 
it,  would  n't  you  ? "  said  Katharine  suddenly. 
But  when,  instead  of  contradicting  her,  he 
tried  to  make  her  explain  her  meaning,  she 
only  shook  her  head  resolutely. 

"  I  don't  think  I  could ;  I  hardly  know 
myself.  It  was  only  something  that  came 
into  my  head  at  the  moment.  It  was  some- 
thing horrid ;  don't  let  us  talk  about  it  any 
more.  Are  you  coming  out  with  me,  or  not  ? 
Ah,  I  know  you  are  not  coming,  now  !  " 

She  was  swift  to  notice  the  least  change  in 
his  expression,  and  it  had  grown  very  dark  in 
the  last  ten  minutes.  He  held  her  out  at 
155 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

arms'  length,  by  her  two  elbows,  and  smiled 
rather  uncomfortably. 

"  I  think  I  won't  to-day,  dear.  Another 
time,  eh  ?  This  brief  must  be  looked  to  at 
once ;  and  I  have  some  other  work,  too.  Go 
and  enjoy  your  holiday,  without  me  for  a 
discordant  element." 

Katharine  flushed  up  hotly,  and  loosed  her- 
self from  his  grasp.  "  I  don't  mind  your  not 
coming,"  she  said,  looking  steadily  on  the 
ground,  "  but  I  don't  think  you  need  bother 
to  invent  excuses  for  me." 

Paul  shrugged  his  shoulders  with  an  indif- 
ference that  maddened  her.  "  All  right ;  I 
won't,  then.  Go  and  find  some  one  else  for 
a  companion,  and  don't  be  a  young  silly. 
Can't  Ted  get  off  for  to-day  ? " 

"  You  have  never  said  so  many  horrid 
things  to  me  before,"  cried  Katharine  pas- 
sionately. 

"  You  have  never  been  so  difficult  to  please 
before,"  observed  Paul  coolly.  "  Besides,  I 
was  under  the  impression  that  I  was  making 
rather  a  good  suggestion." 

"You  always  drag  up  Ted  when  you  are 
being  particularly  unkind !  If  I  had  wanted 
to  go  out  with  Ted,  I  should  n't  have  come  to 
you  first." 

156 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

Paul  began  to  fear  a  scene ;  and  he  had 
more  than  a  man's  horror  of  scenes.  But  he 
could  not  help  seeing  the  tears  in  her  eyes 
as  she  walked  away  to  the  door,  and  he  caught 
her  up  just  as  she  was  opening  it. 

"  Are  n't  you  going  to  say  good-bye  ?  It 
may  be  some  time  before  I  see  you  again." 
He  determined,  as  he  spoke,  that  it  should 
certainly  be  a  very  long  time  before  he  saw 
her  again.  But  she  disarmed  him  by  turn- 
ing round  swiftly  without  a  trace  of  her  anger 
left. 

"  Oh,  why  must  it  be  some  time  ?  You 
don't  mean  it,  do  you  ?  Say  you  don't  mean 
it,  Mr.  Wilton,"  she  implored. 

"  No,  no ;  I  was  only  joking,"  he  said  reas- 
suringly. "  Quite  soon,  of  course."  And  he 
dropped  a  kiss  on  the  little  pink  ear  that  was 
nearest  to  him.  But  when  he  saw  the  look 
on  her  face,  and  the  quick  way  in  which  her 
breath  was  coming  and  going,  he  blamed  him- 
self for  his  indiscretion,  and  pushed  her  play- 
fully outside  the  door. 

When  Phyllis  Hyam  came  home  from  the 
office,  that  evening,  she  found  Katharine  on 
the  floor  of  her  cubicle,  mending  stockings ; 
while  the  rest  of  her  wardrobe  occupied  all 
the  available  space  to  be  seen.  Katharine 
157 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

never  did  things  by  halves,  and  she  very 
rarely  had  the  impulse  to  mend  her  clothes. 

"  Hullo  !  do  you  mean  to  say  you  are  back 
already  ?  "  cried  Phyllis,  tripping  clumsily  over 
the  dresses  on  the  floor. 

"  That  hardly  demands  an  answer,  does  it  ?  " 
said  Katharine,  without  looking  up.  She 
threaded  her  needle,  and  added  more  graciously, 
"  I  did  n't  go,  after  all." 

"  Oh,"  said  Phyllis  wonderingly.  "  I  'm 
sorry." 

"  You  need  n't  bother,  thanks.  I  did  n't 
want  to  go.  I  stayed  at  home  instead,  and 
mended  my  clothes ;  they  seemed  to  want  it, 
rather.  I  shall  be  quite  respectable,  now." 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Phyllis  again.  "  I  should  have 
left  it  for  a  wet  day,  I  think." 

"  Perhaps  your  work  allows  you  to  select 
your  holidays  according  to  the  weather.  Mine 
does  n't,"  said  Katharine  sarcastically. 

Phyllis  cleared  the  chair,  and  sat  down 
upon  it. 

"  You  've  been  crying,"  she  said,  with  the 
bluntness  that  estranged  all  her  friends  in  time. 
Katharine  never  minded  it ;  it  rather  appealed 
to  her  love  of  truth  than  otherwise. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  I  was  disappointed,  that 's  all. 
There  was  nothing  really  to  cry  about.  I  don't 

158 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

know  why  I  did.  Don't  sit  there  and  stare, 
Phyllis  ;  I  know  I  have  made  a  sight  of 
myself." 

"  No,  you  have  n't.  Poor  old  dear !  "  said 
Phyllis,  with  ill-timed  affection.  "  I  should 
like  to  tell  him  what  I  think  of  him,  I  know  !  " 
she  added  emphatically. 

"  What  are  you  muttering  about  ? "  asked 
Katharine. 

"  Oh,  nothing,"  said  Phyllis.  "  Have  you 
had  any  tea  ?  " 

"  I  don't  want  any  tea,  thank  you.  I  wish 
you  would  n't  bother.  Go  down  and  have 
your  own." 

"  Guess  I  shall  bring  it  up  here  instead, 
and  then  we  can  talk,"  said  Phyllis.  In  about 
ten  minutes  she  returned,  very  much  out  of 
breath,  with  a  large  tray. 

Katharine  looked  up  and  frowned.  "  I  said 
I  did  n't  want  any,"  she  said  crossly.  How- 
ever, she  added  that  she  believed  there  was 
some  shortbread  on  the  book-case,  which 
Phyllis  at  once  annexed ;  and  her  temper  began 
slowly  to  improve. 

"  Phyllis,"  she  asked  abruptly,  after  a  long 
pause,  "  what  do  you  think  of  men  ?  " 

"  That  they  are  luxuries,"  returned  Phyllis, 
without  hesitation.  "  If  you  've  nothing  to  do 
159 


The    Making  of  a   Prig 

all  day  but  to  play  about,  you  can  afford  to 
have  a  man  or  two  around  you  ;  but  if  you  're 
busy,  you  can't  do  with  them,  anyhow." 

"  Why  not  ? "  demanded  Katharine.  "  Don't 
you  think  they  help  one  along,  rather  ? " 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it !  First,  they  draw  you  on, 
because  you  seem  to  hold  off;  and  then,  when 
you  begin  to  warm  up,  they  come  down  with  a 
quencher,  and  you  feel  you  've  been  a  sight  too 
bold.  And  all  that  kind  of  thing  is  distracting  ; 
and  it  affects  your  work  after  a  time." 

"  But  surely,"  said  Katharine,  "  a  girl  can 
have  a  man  for  a  friend  without  going  through 
all  that!" 

"  Don't  believe  in  it ;  never  did  ;  it  does  n't 
work." 

"  I  think  it  does,  sometimes,"  observed 
Katharine.  "  Of  course  it  depends  on  the 
girl." 

"  Entirely,"  said  Phyllis  cheerfully.  "  The 
man  would  always  spoil  it,  if  he  could  —  with- 
out being  found  out." 

Katharine  leaned  back  on  the  pillow,  with 
her  arms  behind  her  head,  and  her  eyes  fixed 
on  the  ceiling. 

"  That 's  just  it,"  she  said  thoughtfully ; 
"  men  are  so  much  more  conventional  than 
women.  I  am  glad  I  am  not  a  man,  after  all. 

160 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

There  is  no  need  for  a  woman  to  be  con- 
ventional, is  there  ?  She  is  n't  afraid  of  being 
suspected,  all  the  time.  I  'm  certain  conven- 
tionality was  made  for  man,  and  not  man  for 
conventionality,  and  that  woman  never  had  a 
hand  in  it  at  all." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,  though  it  sounds 
very  fine,"  said  Phyllis.  "  But  of  course  men 
have  to  be  more  conventional  than  we  are.  It 
helps  them  to  make  some  show  of  respecta- 
bility, I  guess." 

"  It  is  very  horrible,  if  one  analyses  it,"  mur- 
mured Katharine.  "  According  to  that,  the 
man  who  is  openly  bad  is  preferable  to  the  man 
who  is  conventionally  good.  Of  course  Paul 
is  not  bad  at  all ;  but,  oh  !  I  do  wish  I  did  n't 
see  through  people,  when  they  try  to  pretend 
things,  —  it  always  annoys  them." 

"Eh?"  said  Phyllis,  looking  up.  "Your 
tea  is  getting  cold." 

"  Never  mind  about  the  tea !  Tell  me, 
Phyllis,  do  you  think  any  woman  can  attract 
any  man,  if  she  likes  ?  " 

"  Of  course  she  can,  if  she  is  not  in  love 
with  him." 

Katharine  winced,  and  brought  her  eyes 
down  to  look  at  her  unconscious  friend, 
who  was  still  munching  shortbread  with  an 
"  161 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

expression  of  complete  contentment  on  her 
face. 

"  I  mean  if  she  is  in  love  with  him,  very 
much  in  love  with  him." 

"  Can't  say  ;  never  was,  myself.  But  I  don't 
believe  you  can  do  anything,  if  you  've  got  it 
badly ;  you  have  to  let  yourself  go,  and  hope 
for  the  best." 

"  I  don't  believe  you  know  any  more  about 
it  than  I  do,  Phyllis.  I  '11  tell  you  what  it  is 
that  is  attractive  to  a  man  in  a  woman  :  it  is  her 
imperfections.  He  likes  her  to  be  jealous,  and 
vain,  and  full  of  small  deceptions.  He  hates 
her  to  be  tolerant,  and  large-minded,  and  truth- 
ful ;  above  all,  he  hates  her  to  be  truthful.  I 
don't  know  why  it  is  so,  but  it  is." 

"  It  is  because  she  is  n't  too  mighty  big  to 
worship  him,  then ;  nor  cute  enough  to  see 
through  him,"  said  Phyllis. 

"  If  you  can  see  through  a  man,  you  should 
never  fall  in  love  with  him,"  added  Katharine. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  !  "  said  Phyllis.  "  You 
can  always  pretend  not  to  see ;  they  never 
know." 

"  A  nice  man  does,"  said  Katharine,  smiling 
for  the  first  time.  The  tea  had  made  her  feel 
more  charitable  ;  and  she  took  up  her  pen,  and 
wrote  to  her  mother's  connections,  the  Keeleys, 

162 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

who  did  not  know  she  was   in  town,  to   ask 
them  when  she  could  call  and  see  them. 

She  felt  the  need  of  knowing  some  one,  now 
that  she  had  made  up  her  mind  not  to  know 
Paul  any  more.  For  he  had  taught  her  the 
desire  for  companionship,  and  she  shrank  from 
being  left  entirely  friendless. 


163 


CHAPTER   IX 

AT  first  she  was  surprised  to  find  that  it  was 
so  easy  to  get  on  without  him.  She  persuaded 
herself  that  her  indifference  arose  from  her  an- 
noyance at  his  having  imposed  the  conven- 
tional view  of  things  upon  her;  but,  in  reality, 
it  was  due  to  her  conviction  that  he  would  be 
the  first  to  give  in,  and  would  soon  write  and 
ask  her  to  go  and  see  him.  And  she  longed 
for  an  opportunity  to  write  and  refuse  him. 
But  when  a  fortnight  passed  by  and  no  letter 
came  from  him,  her  righteous  scorn  deserted 
her  and  she  became  merely  angry.  The  flat- 
ness of  being  completely  ignored  was  unendur- 
able ;  and  she  longed  more  than  ever  for  a 
chance  of  showing  him  that  her  dignity  was 
equal  to  his,  although  she  was  beginning  to 
fear  that  he  was  not  going  to  give  her  the 
necessary  occasion.  Then  came  days  when  she 
felt  reckless,  and  determined  to  cease  thinking 
about  him  at  any  cost ;  and  she  threw  herself 
into  any  distraction  that  offered  itself,  and  tried 

164 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

to  think  that  she  was  quite  getting  over  her 
desire  to  see  him.  It  was  in  one  of  these 
moods  that  she  went  to  call  on  the  Keeleys, 
who  had  written  to  tell  her  that  they  were 
always  at  home  on  Thursdays.  The  fact  of 
putting  on  her  best  clothes  was  in  itself  some 
satisfaction ;  it  was  a  step  towards  restoring 
her  self-respect,  at  all  events,  and  she  felt  hap- 
pier than  she  had  been  for  some  time  past 
as  she  walked  down  Park  Lane  and  found  her 
way  to  their  house  in  Curzon  Street. 

The  Honourable  Mrs.  Keeley  was  the  widow 
of  a  peer's  son  who  had  been  a  cabinet  minister 
and  had  signalised  his  political  career  by  support- 
ing every  bill  for  the  emancipation  of  women, 
and  his  domestic  one  by  impressing  upon  his 
wife  that  her  true  sphere  was  the  home.  The 
natural  reaction  followed  after  his  death,  when 
Mrs.  Keeley  broke  loose  from  the  restraint 
his  presence  had  put  upon  her,  and  practised 
the  precepts  he  had  loved  to  expound  in  public. 
She  became  the  most  active  of  political  women  ; 
she  spoke  upon  platforms  ;  she  harried  the  rate- 
payers until  they  elected  her  favourite  county 
councillor ;  she  canvassed  in  the  slums  for 
the  candidate  who  would  vote  for  woman's 
suffrage.  She  had  a  passion  for  everything 
that  was  modern,  irrespective  of  its  value ; 
165 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

and  she  spent  the  time  that  was  not  occupied 
by  her  public  duties  in  trying  to  force  her 
principles  upon  her  only  daughter.  But  Marion 
Keeley  refused  to  be  modern,  except  in  her 
amusements  ;  she  accepted  the  bicycle  and  the 
cigarette  with  equanimity,  but  she  had  no 
desires  to  reform  anything  or  anybody ;  she 
merely  wanted  to  enjoy  herself  as  much  as 
possible,  and  she  looked  forward  to  making  a 
wealthy  marriage  in  the  future.  Her  greatest 
ambition  was  to  avoid  being  bored,  and  her 
greatest  trial  was  the  energy  of  her  mother. 
She  never  pretended  to  be  advanced  ;  and  she 
felt  that  she  had  been  wasted  on  the  wrong 
mother  when  she  saw  most  of  the  girls  of  her 
acquaintance  burning  to  do  things  in  defiance  of 
their  old-fashioned  parents.  She  chose  her  own 
friends  from  the  idle  world  of  Mayfair ;  and  so 
it  was  that  two  distinct  sets  of  people  met  in 
the  Keeleys'  drawing-room  on  Thursday  after- 
noons and  disapproved  of  each  other. 

Katharine  received  a  warm  reception  from 
her  hostess.  The  fact  that  she  belonged  to 
the  class  of  working  gentlewomen,  about  whom 
Mrs.  Keeley  had  many  theories  but  little 
knowledge,  was  a  sufficient  evidence  of  her 
right  to  be  encouraged ;  and  she  found  herself 
seated  on  an  uncomfortable  stool,  and  intro- 
166 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

duced  to  an  East-end  clergyman  and  a  lady 
inspector  of  factories  within  five  minutes  of 
her  entry  into  the  room.  She  glanced  rather 
longingly  towards  the  back  drawing-room, 
where  her  cousin  Marion  was  looking  very 
pretty  and  was  flirting  very  charmingly  with 
three  smart-looking  boys ;  but  it  was  evident 
that  her  aunt  had  labelled  her  as  one  of  her 
own  set,  and  she  resigned  herself  to  her  fate, 
and  agreed  with  the  East-end  clergyman  that 
the  want  of  rain  was  becoming  serious. 

"  My  niece  lectures,  you  know ;  strikingly 
clever,  and  so  young,"  said  Mrs.  Keeley  in  a 
breathless  aside  to  the  lady  inspector,  as  she 
came  back  from  the  opposite  sid«  of  the  room, 
where  she  had  just  coupled  a  socialist  and  a 
guardian  of  the  poor. 

"Indeed!"  said  the  lady  inspector;  and 
Katharine  began  to  lose  her  diffidence  when 
she  found  that  she  smiled  quite  like  an  ordi- 
nary person.  "  Do  you  lecture  on  hygiene  ? 
Because  Mr.  Hodgson-Pemberton  is  getting  up 
some  popular  lectures  in  his  parish,  and  we 
are  trying  to  find  a  lecturer  for  hygiene  ?  " 

Mr.  Hodgson-Pemberton  became  animated 
for  a  moment ;  but  when  Katharine  said, 
apologetically,  that  her  subjects  were  merely 
literary,  he  took  no  further  interest  in  her  and 

167 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

resumed  his  conversation  with  the  lady  in- 
spector of  factories.  Katharine  was  left  alone 
again,  and  relapsed  into  one  of  her  dreams, 
until  Marion  recognised  her  and  came  and 
fetched  her  into  the  back  drawing-room. 

"Isn't  it  refreshing  ?  "  she  said  to  the  boys, 
who  had  now  increased  in  number :  "  Kitty 
does  n't  know  anything  about  politics,  and  she 
does  n't  want  to  be  with  the  fogies  at  all,  do 
you,  Kitty  ?  And,  for  all  that,  she  is  dread- 
fully clever,  and  gives  lectures  on  all  sorts  of 
things  to  all  sorts  of  people.  Oh,  dear,  I  do 
wish  I  were  clever  !  " 

"  Oh,  please  don't  be  clever,  Miss  Keeley ! 
you  won't  know  me  any  longer  if  you  are," 
said  her  favourite  boy,  imploringly. 

"  You  are  far  too  charming  to  be  clever," 
added  another  boy,  who  had  been  her  favourite 
last  week,  and  was  trying  to  regain  his  position 
by  elaborate  compliments. 

"  That 's  rubbish,"  said  Marion  crushingly  ; 
"  and  not  very  polite  to  my  cousin,  either." 

The  dethroned  favourite  did  his  best  to  re- 
pair his  blunder  by  assuring  Katharine  that  he 
would  never  have  supposed  her  to  be  clever, 
if  he  had  not  been  told  so.  And  when  she 
laughed  uncontrollably  at  his  remark,  he  chose 
to  be  offended,  and  withdrew  altogether. 
1 68 


The   Making  of  a    Prig 

"  You  should  n't  laugh  at  him.  He  can't 
help  it,"  said  Marion,  and  she  introduced  a 
third  admirer  to  Katharine  to  get  rid  of  him. 
He  had  very  little  to  say,  and  when  she  had 
confessed  that  she  did  not  bicycle,  and  never 
went  in  the  park  because  she  was  too  busy, 
he  stared  a  little  without  speaking  at  all,  and 
then  contrived  to  join  again  in  the  conversa- 
tion that  was  buzzing  around  Marion.  Most 
of  the  other  people  had  left  now,  and  Katha- 
rine was  trying  to  summon  up  courage  to  do 
the  same,  when  her  aunt  came  up  to  her  again, 
and  presented  her  to  a  weary-looking  girl  in 
a  big  hat. 

"  You  ought  to  know  each  other,"  she 
said,  effusively,  "  because  you  are  both  work- 
ers. Miss  Martin  does  gesso  work,  and  has 
a  studio  of  her  own ;  and  my  niece  gives 
lectures,  you  know." 

They  looked  at  one  another  rather  hope- 
lessly, and  Katharine  resisted  another  im- 
pulse to  laugh. 

"  The  knowledge  of  our  mutual  occupations 
does  n't  seem  to  help  the  conversation  much, 
does  it  ? "  she  said ;  and  the  weary-looking 
girl  tried  to  smile. 

"  That 's  right,"  said  Mrs.  Keeley,  resting 
for  a  moment  in  a  chair  near  them.  "  I  knew 
169 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

you  two  would  have  plenty  to  say  to  each 
other.  That's  the  best  of  you  working- 
women  ;  there  is  such  a  bond  of  sympathy 
between  you." 

"  Is  there  ?  "  said  Katharine,  remembering 
the  sixty-three  working- women  at  Queen's 
Crescent,  and  her  feelings  towards  them.  But 
Mrs.  Keeley  had  ideas  about  women  who 
worked,  and  meant  to  air  them. 

"  It  is  so  splendid  to  think  that  women 
can  really  do  men's  work,  in  spite  of  every- 
thing that  is  said  to  the  contrary,"  she 
continued. 

The  weary-looking  girl  made  no  attempt  to 
contradict  her,  but  Katharine  was  less  docile. 

"  I  don't  think  they  can,"  she  objected. 
"  They  might,  perhaps,  if  they  had  a  fair 
chance  ;  but  they  have  n't." 

"  But  they  are  getting  it  every  day,"  cried 
Mrs.  Keeley,  waxing  enthusiastic.  "  Think  of 
the  progress  that  has  been  made,  even  in  my 
time ;  and  in  another  ten  years  there  will  be 
nothing  that  women  will  not  be  able  to  do 
in  common  with  men !  Is  n't  it  a  glorious 
reflection  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  it  will  be  so,"  persisted 
Katharine.  "It  has  nothing  to  do  with  edu- 
cation, or  any  of  those  things.  A  woman  is 

170 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

handicapped,  just  because  she  is  a  woman,  and 
has  to  go  on  living  like  a  woman.  There  is 
always  home  work  to  be  done,  or  some  one 
to  be  nursed,  or  clothes  to  be  mended.  A 
man  has  nothing  to  do  but  his  work ;  but  a 
woman  is  expected  to  do  a  woman's  work  as 
well  as  a  man's.  It  is  too  much  for  any  one 
to  do  well.  I  am  a  working-woman  myself, 
and  I  don't  find  it  so  pleasant  as  it  is  painted." 

"  I  'm  so  glad  you  think  so,"  murmured 
Marion,  who  had  come  up  unobserved,  with 
her  favourite  in  close  attendance.  "  I  was 
afraid  you  would  be  on  mamma's  side,  and 
I  believe  you  are  on  mine,  after  all." 

At  this  point  the  weary-looking  girl  got 
up  to  leave,  as  though  she  could  not  bear  it 
another  minute,  and  Katharine  tried  to  do 
the  same ;  but  she  was  not  to  be  let  off  so 
easily. 

"  Tell  me,"  said  her  aunt  earnestly,  "  do 
you  not  think  that  women  are  happier  if  they 
have  work  to  do  for  their  living  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  it  is  possible,  but  I  have  n't 
met  any  who  are,"  answered  Katharine.  "  I 
think  it  is  because  they  feel  they  have  sacri- 
ficed all  the  pleasures  of  life.  Men  don't 
like  women  who  work,  do  they  ?  " 

The  eyes  of  Marion  met  those  of  her  fa- 
171 


The  Making   of  a    Prig 

vourite  admirer ;  and  Marion  blushed.  But 
Mrs.  Keeley  returned  to  the  charge. 

"Indeed,  there  are  many  in  my  own  ac- 
quaintance who  have  the  greatest  admiration 
for  working-women." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  laughed  Katharine,  "  they  have 
lots  of  admiration  for  us ;  but  they  don't 
fall  in  love  with  us,  that 's  all.  I  think  it  is 
because  it  is  the  elusive  quality  in  woman  that 
fascinates  men ;  and  directly  they  begin  to 
understand  her,  they  cease  to  be  fascinated  by 
her.  And  woman  is  growing  less  mysterious 
every  day,  now ;  she  is  chiefly  occupied  in 
explaining  herself,  and  that  is  why  men  don't 
find  her  such  good  fun.  At  least,  I  think  so." 

"  You  know  us  remarkably  well,  Miss  Aus- 
ten, you  do,  really,"  drawled  the  favourite  boy. 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Katharine,  really  getting 
up  this  time,  "  I  don't  pretend  to.  But  I  do 
know  the  working  gentlewoman  very  well 
indeed,  and  I  don't  think  she  is  a  bit  like 
the  popular  idea  of  her." 

She  was  much  pleased  with  herself  as  she 
walked  home  ;  and  even  the  bustle  of  Edg- 
ware  Road  and  the  squalor  of  Queen's  Cres- 
cent failed  to  remove  the  pleasant  impression 
that  her  excursion  into  the  fashionable  world 
had  left  with  her.  It  comforted  her  wounded 
172 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

feelings  to  discover  that  she  could  hold  her 
own  in  a  room  full  of  people,  although  the 
only  man  whose  opinion  she  valued  held  her 
of  no  more  account  than  a  child. 

"  Hullo  !  you  seem  pleased  with  yourself," 
said  Polly  Newland,  as  she  entered  the  house. 
The  cockney  twang  of  her  voice  struck  un- 
musically on  Katharine's  ear,  and  she  mur- 
mured some  sort  of  ungracious  reply  and 
turned  to  rummage  in  the  box  for  letters. 
There  was  one  for  her,  and  the  sight  of  the 
precise,  upright  handwriting  drove  every 
thought  of  Polly,  and  the  Keeleys,  and  her 
pleasant  afternoon  out  of  her  head.  Even 
then  something  kept  her  from  reading  it  at 
once,  and  she  took  it  upstairs  into  her  cubi- 
cle, and  laid  it  on  the  table  while  she  changed 
her  clothes  and  elaborately  folded  up  her  best 
ones  and  put  them  away.  Then  she  sat  down 
on  the  bed  and  tore  it  open  with  trembling  fin- 
gers, and  tried  to  cheat  herself  into  the  belief  that 
she  was  perfectly  indifferent  as  to  its  contents. 

"  Dear  child,"  it  ran  :  — 

What  has  become  of  you  ?  Come  round  and  have 
tea  with  me  to-morrow  afternoon.  I  have  some  new 
books  to  show  you. 

Yours  ever, 

PAUL  WILTON. 
173 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

Here  at  last  was  the  opportunity  she  had 
wanted.  He  should  know  now  that  she  was 
not  a  child,  to  be  laughed  at  because  she 
was  cross,  to  be  ignored  when  she  was  hurt, 
and  to  be  coaxed  back  into  good  humour  again 
by  a  bribe.  She  would  be  able  to  show  him 
now  that  she  was  not  the  sort  of  woman  he 
seemed  to  consider  her,  and  she  told  herself 
several  times  that  she  was  overjoyed  at  being 
given  the  chance  of  telling  him  so.  But  when 
it  came  to  the  point,  she  found  that  the  cold, 
dignified  letter  she  had  been  composing  for 
weeks  was  not  so  easy  to  write  ;  and  she  spent 
the  rest  of  the  evening  in  thinking  of  new  ones. 
First  of  all,  it  was  to  be  very  short,  and  very 
stiff;  but  that  was  not  obvious  enough  to 
gratify  her  injured  feelings,  and  she  set  to 
work  on  another  one  that  was  mainly  sarcastic. 
But  sarcasm  seemed  a  sorry  weapon  to  use 
when  she  had  reached  such  a  crisis  in  her  life 
as  this  ;  and  she  thought  of  another  one  in  bed, 
after  the  light  was  out,  in  which  she  determined 
that  he  should  know  she  was  unhappy  as  well. 
And  this  one  was  so  pathetic  that  it  even 
roused  her  own  pity,  and  she  felt  that  it  would 
be  positively  inhuman  to  send  such  a  letter 
as  that  to  any  one,  however  badly  he  had 
behaved. 

174 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

In  the  end,  she  did  not  write  to  him  at  all. 
It  was  more  effective,  she  thought,  to  remain 
silent.  So  she  went  to  school  the  next  morn- 
ing as  usual,  and  gave  her  lessons  as  usual ; 
though  she  looked  in  the  glass  at  intervals  to 
see  if  she  were  pale  and  had  a  sad  expression, 
which  certainly  ought  to  have  been  the  case. 
But  even  her  head  did  not  ache,  which  it  did 
sometimes ;  and  Nature  obstinately  refused  to 
come  to  her  assistance.  She  reached  home 
again  about  four  o'clock,  and  the  aspect  of 
the  doorsteps  and  the  area  completed  her  dis- 
comfiture. If  they  had  only  been  a  little  less 
squalid,  a  little  more  free  from  the  domination 
of  cats,  she  might  have  retained  her  dignified 
attitude  to  the  end.  But  there  was  something 
about  them  to-day  that  recalled  the  cosy  little 
room  in  the  Temple  by  vivid  contrast ;  and 
she  flung  her  pile  of  exercise  books  recklessly 
upon  the  hall  table,  and  hastened  out  of  the 
house  again,  without  allowing  herself  time  to 
think. 

"  I  was  afraid  you  were  not  coming,"  he  said, 
and  he  greeted  her  with  both  hands.  She 
never  remembered  seeing  him  so  unreserved 
in  his  welcome  before ;  and  she  marvelled  at 
herself  for  having  attempted  to  keep  away  from 
him  any  longer. 

175 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  It  was  because  of  the  cats,"  she  said,  laugh- 
ing to  hide  her  emotion.  But  she  could  not 
hide  anything  from  him ;  he  knew  something 
of  what  she  was  thinking,  and  he  bent  down 
and  deliberately  kissed  her. 

"  Why  did  you  do  that  ?  "  she  asked,  trying 
to  free  her  hands  to  cover  her  burning  face. 

"  Because  you  did  n't  stop  me,  I  suppose," 
he  replied,  lightly. 

"  But  I  did  n't  know  you  were  going  to." 

"  Because  I  knew  you  would  n't  mind, 
then." 

She  did  not  speak,  and  her  eyes  were 
lowered. 

"  Did  you  mind,  Katharine  ?  " 

"  No,"  she  whispered. 

"  Now,  tell  me  why  I  am  indebted  to  the 
cats,"  he  said,  as  he  rang  the  bell  for  tea ;  and 
for  the  rest  of  the  afternoon  they  talked,  as 
Katharine  laughingly  said,  "  without  any  con- 
versation." 

There  was  no  explanation  on  either  side,  no 
attempt  at  facing  the  situation ;  and  she  felt 
when  she  left  him  that  she  had  thrown  away 
her  last  chance  of  controlling  their  friendship. 
There  had  been  a  tacit  struggle  between  their 
two  wills,  and  his  had  triumphed.  She  could 
never  put  him  out  of  her  life  now,  unless  he 
176 


The    Making  of  a   Prig 

broke  with  her  of  his  own  accord ;  and  she 
realised  bitterly,  even  while  she  was  glad,  that 
he  did  not  care  enough  for  her  to  do  that. 

She  saw  him  constantly  all  through  the  hot 
months  of  July  and  August.  She  gave  up  her 
original  intention  of  going  home  for  the  sum- 
mer holidays,  on  the  pretext  of  reading  for  her 
next  term's  lectures  at  the  British  Museum ; 
but  she  did  very  little  work  in  reality,  and  she 
spent  whole  days  in  the  reading-room,  regard- 
less of  the  people  around  her,  sometimes  even 
of  the  book  before  her,  and  dreamed  long 
hours  away,  making  visions  in  which  only 
two  people  played  any  prominent  part,  —  and 
those  two  people  were  Paul  and  herself.  Her 
whole  life  seemed  to  be  a  kind  of  dream  just 
then,  with  a  vivid  incident  here  and  there  when 
she  met  him  or  went  to  see  him,  and  the  rest  a 
vague  nebula,  in  which  something  outside  her- 
self made  her  do  what  was  expected  of  her. 
Sometimes  she  felt  impelled  to  work  furiously 
hard  for  a  day  or  two,  or  to  take  long  walks  by 
herself,  as  though  nothing  else  would  tire  her 
restless  energy  ;  and  then  she  would  relapse 
into  her  lethargic  mood  again,  and  do  nothing 
but  watch  vigilantly  for  the  post,  or  haunt  the 
streets  where  she  had  sometimes  met  him. 

And  all  the  while  she  thought  she  was  happy, 
12  I77 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

with  a  kind  of  weird,  passionate  happiness  she 
had  never  known  before  ;  and  it  seemed  to 
compensate  for  the  hours  of  suspense  and  anxi- 
ety she  went  through  when  he  took  no  notice 
of  her.  For  his  conduct  was  as  inexplicable  as 
ever ;  and  for  one  day  that  he  was  demonstra- 
tive and  even  affectionate,  she  had  to  endure 
many  of  indifference  that  almost  amounted  to 
cruelty. 

"  We  are  horribly  alike ;  it  hurts  me  some- 
times when  I  suddenly  find  myself  in  you," 
she  said  to  him  one  day,  when  he  was  in  an 
expansive  mood. 

"  I  am  much  honoured  by  the  discovery, 
but  I  fail  to  see  where  the  likeness  lies,"  was 
his  reply. 

"  It  is  not  very  definite,"  she  said,  thought- 
fully. "  I  think  it  must  be  because  I  feel 
your  changes  of  mood  so  quickly.  We  laugh 
together  at  something,  and  everything  seems 
so  fearfully  nice ;  and  then,  suddenly,  I  feel 
that  something  has  sprung  up  between  us,  and 
I  look  up  and  I  see  that  you  feel  it  too,  and 
all  at  once  there  is  nothing  to  talk  about. 
Haven't  you  ever  noticed  it?" 

"  I  think  you  are  an  absurdly  sensitive  little 
girl,"  he  said,  smiling. 

"  Of  course,"  she  continued,  without  heeding 
178 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

his  remark,  "  on  the  surface,  no  two  people 
could  be  more  unlike  than  we  are.  You  are  so 
awfully  afraid  of  showing  what  you  feel,  for 
instance ;  but  I  always  tell  you  everything, 
don't  I  ?  " 

"  My  dear  child,  what  nonsense  !  I  am  of 
the  most  artless  and  confiding  nature ;  while 
you,  on  the  contrary,  never  give  yourself  away 
at  all.  Why,  you  never  tell  me  anything  I 
really  want  to  know !  Whatever  put  such  an 
idea  into  that  curious  head  of  yours  ?  " 

"  Oh,  don't ! "  she  cried.  "  You  make  me  feel 
quite  hysterical !  You  have  no  right  to  upset 
all  my  views  on  my  own  character,  as  well  as 
on  yours.  I  know  I  am  stupidly  demonstra- 
tive. I  have  often  blushed  all  over  because  I 
have  told  you  things  I  never  meant  to  tell  any 
one.  How  can  you  say  I  am  reserved  ?  I 
only  wish  I  were !  " 

"  The  few  confidences  of  a  reserved  person 
are  always  rash  ones,"  observed  Paul.  "  The 
same  might  be  said  of  the  reflections  of  an 
impulsive  person,  or  the  impulses  of  a  reflec- 
tive one.  It  all  comes  from  want  of  habit. 
You  can't  alter  your  temperament,  that 's  all." 

"  But  I  can't  believe  that  I  am  reserved,"  she 
persisted  ;  "  it  seems  incredible.    And  it  makes 
us  more  alike  than  ever." 
179 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

"  Really,  Katharine,  I  beg  you  to  rid  your 
mind  of  that  exceedingly  fallacious  notion," 
said  Paul,  laughing.  "  I  assure  you  I  am  to 
be  read  like  a  book." 

"  A  book  in  a  strange  language,  then.  I 
don't  think  I  shall  ever  be  able  to  read  it,"  said 
Katharine,  shaking  her  head.  And  she  drew 
down  a  rebuke  upon  herself  for  being  solemn. 

They  had  a  tacit  unwillingness  to  become 
serious,  about  this  time ;  their  conversation 
was  made  up  of  trivialities,  and  he  never  kissed 
her  except  on  the  tips  of  her  fingers.  They 
avoided  any  demonstration  of  feeling  that 
might  have  revealed  to  them  the  anomaly  of 
their  position,  and  they  mutually  shrank  from 
defining  their  relations  towards  one  another. 

They  were  standing  together  at  the  window, 
one  day,  looking  down  into  Fountain  Court, 
which  was  as  hot  and  as  dusty  as  ever  in  spite 
of  the  water  that  was  playing  into  the  basin  in 
the  middle. 

"  What  are  you  thinking  about  ?  "  he  asked 
her,  so  suddenly  that  she  was  surprised  into  an 
answer. 

"  I  was  thinking  how  queer  it  is  that  you 
and  I  should  be  friends  like  this,"  she  replied, 
truthfully. 

"  What 's  the  matter  with  our  friendship, 
1 80 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

then  ? "  he  asked,  in  the  prosaic  manner  he 
always  assumed  when  she  showed  any  senti- 
ment. She  laughed. 

"  There 's  nothing  the  matter  with  it,  of 
course.  You  are  the  most  unromantic  person 
I  ever  knew.  You  seem  to  delight  in  divest- 
ing every  little  trivial  incident  of  its  sentiment. 
What  makes  you  such  a  Vandal  ?  " 

"  But,  surely,  you  are  not  supposing  that 
there  is  any  romance  in  our  knowing  each 
other,  are  you  ?  " 

"  I  never  dreamed  of  such  a  thing,"  retorted 
Katharine.  "  I  think  there  is  more  romance 
in  your  cigarette  holder  than  in  the  whole  of 
you  !  " 

Sometimes  she  wondered  if  he  were  capa- 
ble of  deep  feeling  at  all,  or  if  his  indifference 
were  really  assumed. 

"  I  envy  you  your  utter  disregard  of  circum- 
stance," she  once  exclaimed  to  him.  "  How 
did  you  learn  it  ?  Do  you  really  never  feel 
things,  or  is  it  only  an  easy  way  of  getting 
through  life  ? " 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  don't  see  what  you  are  driving 
at.  I  dare  say  you  are  being  very  brilliant,  but 
I  fail  to  discern  what  I  am  expected  to  say." 

"  You  are  not  expected  to  say  anything,"  she 
said,  playfully.  "  That  is  the  best  of  being  a 
181 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

gigantic  fraud  like  yourself;  nobody  ever  does 
expect  you  to  fulfil  the  ordinary  requirements 
of  every-day  life.  You  might  be  a  heathen  god, 
who  grins  heartlessly  while  people  try  to  pro- 
pitiate him  with  the  best  they  have  to  offer,  and 
who  eats  up  their  gifts  greedily  when  they  are 
not  looking." 

"  Has  all  this  any  reference  to  me,  might  I 
ask  ? " 

"  I  don't  believe  you  Ve  got  any  ordinary 
human  feeling,"  pursued  Katharine.  "  I  don't 
believe  you  care  for  anybody  or  anything,  so 
long  as  you  are  left  alone.  Why  don't  you  say 
something,  instead  of  staring  at  me  as  though  I 
were  a  curiosity  ?  " 

"  If  you  reflect,  you  will  see  that  there  has 
not  been  a  single  pause  since  you  began  to 
speak.  Besides,  why  should  n't  you  be  cate- 
chised as  well  as  myself?  Where  do  you  keep 
all  your  deep  feeling,  please  ?  I  have  n't  seen 
much  of  it,  but  perhaps  I  have  no  right  to 
expect  such  a  thing.  No  doubt  you  keep  it 
all  for  some  luckier  person  than  myself." 

His  tone  was  one  of  raillery,  as  hers  had 
been  when  she  began  to  talk.  But  she  startled 
him,  as  she  did  sometimes,  by  a  sudden  change 
of  mood ;  and  she  flashed  round  upon  him 
indignantly. 

182 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

"  It  is  horrible  of  you  to  laugh  at  me.  You 
know  you  don't  mean  what  you  say  ;  you  know 
I  have  any  amount  of  deep  feeling.  I  hide  it 
on  purpose,  because  you  don't  like  me  to  show 
it,  you  know  you  don't !  I  —  I  think  you  are 
very  unkind  to  me." 

He  reached  out  his  hand  and  stroked  her 
hair  gently ;  she  was  sitting  a  little  away  from 
him,  and  he  could  see  the  sensitive  curve  of  her 
lower  lip. 

"  Don't,  child !  One  never  knows  how  to 
take  you.  Another  time  you  would  have  seen 
that  I  was  only  joking." 

"  You  have  no  right  to  joke  about  such  a 
serious  matter.  You  know  it  was  a  serious 
matter,  now  ;  was  n't  it  ?  " 

"  The  most  serious  in  the  universe,"  he 
assured  her ;  and  he  brought  his  hand  gently 
down  her  cheek,  and  laid  it  against  her  throat. 

"  You  are  only  laughing ;  you  always  laugh 
at  me,"  she  complained ;  but  she  bent  her 
head,  and  kissed  his  hand  softly.  "  I  feel  like 
a  wolf,  sometimes,"  she  added,  impetuously. 

"  Did  n't  you  have  enough  tea  ?  "  he  said. 
But  she  knew  by  his  tone  that  he  was  not 
laughing  at  her  now,  and  she  went  on 
recklessly. 

"  I  am  certain  I  could  not  love  any  one  very 
183 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

much,  without  hating  him  too.  It  is  a  horrible 
dual  feeling  that  tears  one  to  pieces.  Is  it 
the  badness  in  me,  I  wonder  ?  Other  people 
don't  seem  to  feel  like  that  when  they  are  in 
love.  Why  is  it  ?  " 

"  Because  it  is  the  same  emotion,  or  set  of 
emotions,  that  inspires  both  love  and  hatred," 
said  Paul.  "  Circumstance  does  the  rest,  or 
temperament." 

"  It  is  inexplicable,"  said  Katharine  solemnly. 
"  I  can  understand  killing  a  man,  because  he 
could  not  understand  my  love  for  him  ;  or 
casting  off  my  own  child,  because  it  was  bored 
by  my  affection.  I  am  quite  sure,"  she  added, 
quaintly,  "  that  I  should  bore  any  one  in  a 
week,  if  I  really  loved  him." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Paul  politely  ;  and  they  again 
laughed  away  a  crisis. 


184 


CHAPTER  X 

AT  the  beginning  of  October  Paul  went  abroad. 
She  had  thought  that  life  without  him  would 
be  unendurable,  and  she  could  not  analyse  her 
own  feelings  when  she  found  that  she  could 
laugh  with  as  much  enjoyment  as  ever,  and 
that  her  fits  of  depression  were  less  frequent 
than  before.  In  fact,  she  had  often  been  far 
more  unsettled  if  a  letter  from  him  had  failed 
to  arrive  when  it  was  due ;  and  a  new  sensation 
of  freedom  went  far  to  cure  her  of  the  restless- 
ness that  had  possessed  her  all  the  summer. 
She  began  to  probe  into  her  truth-loving  soul, 
to  try  and  discover  whether  her  feeling  for  him 
was  not  an  illusion  after  all ;  but  she  found  no 
satisfactory  explanation  of  the  problem  that 
was  puzzling  her,  and  she  put  it  voluntarily 
away  from  her,  and  turned  to  her  work  as  a 
healthy  antidote.  And  she  had  a  good  deal 
of  work  just  then.  Thanks  to  the  influence 
of  the  Honourable  Mrs.  Keeley,  her  private 
pupils  were  increasing  in  number,  and  these, 
with  her  lectures  at  the  school,  were  producing 
185 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

a  salary  that  relieved  her  of  all  financial  worry 
for  the  present.  She  was  making  new  friends 
too,  and  it  added  to  her  contentment  to  find 
that  people  asked  her  to  go  and  see  them  be- 
cause they  liked  her.  For  the  first  time  since 
her  arrival  in  town,  she  felt  sure  of  being  on 
the  way  to  success ;  and  the  sensation  was  a 
very  thrilling  one.  Phyllis  asked  her,  one 
day,  why  she  was  looking  so  happy.  Katha- 
rine laughed,  and  pondered  for  a  moment ;  then 
answered  frankly  that  she  did  not  know  why. 
"  I  only  know  that  I  have  never  been  so 
gloriously  happy  in  my  whole  life,"  she  added ; 
and  she  wondered,  as  she  spoke,  whether  the 
mad,  feverish  happiness  of  the  summer  months 
had  really  been  happiness  at  all.  But  Phyllis, 
who  felt  that  she  had  no  share  in  this  strange 
new  life  of  hers,  looked  back  regretfully  on  the 
earlier  days  when  Katharine  had  been  lonely 
and  in  need  of  her  sympathy.  Even  Ted  told 
her  she  was  looking  "  very  fit,"  and  this  was 
the  highest  term  of  praise  in  his  vocabulary. 
For,  since  the  beginning  of  October,  she  had 
seen  a  good  deal  of  Ted.  It  was  very  restful 
to  come  back  to  him,  after  the  state  of  high 
pressure  in  which  she  had  been  living  lately  ; 
and  when  she  grew  accustomed  to  his  being  a 
West-end  young  man,  instead  of  an  easy-going 
1 86 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

schoolboy,  she  found  him  the  same  delightful 
companion  as  of  old.  He  did  not  allude  to 
her  many  weeks  of  silence,  nor  ask  her  how  she 
had  spent  them ;  he  came  at  her  bidding,  and 
when  he  found  that  she  liked  him  to  come 
he  came  again.  He  was  as  humble  as  ever, 
except  in  matters  of  worldly  knowledge,  and 
there  he  showed  a  youthful  superiority  over 
her  which  amused  her  immensely.  His  lazi- 
ness, which  had  always  been  more  or  less  an 
assumption  with  him,  had  developed  into  the 
fashionable  pose  of  indifference  ;  and  she  tried 
in  vain  to  spur  him  on  to  doing  something 
definite  with  his  life,  instead  of  letting  it  drift 
away  in  a  city  office.  . 

"  Girls  don't  understand  these  things,"  he 
v/ould  say  with  good-natured  obstinacy.  "  Of 
course  I  loathe  the  beastly  hole ;  any  decent 
chap  would.  But  I  may  as  well  stop  there. 
It 's  not  my  fault  that  I  was  ever  born,  is  it  ? 
I  get  enough  to  live  on,  with  what  my  cousin 
allows  me  ;  and  I  'm  not  going  to  grind  all  I 
know,  to  get  a  rise  of  five  bob  a  week.  It 
is  n't  good  enough.  I  'm  sure  I  'm  very  easily 
contented,  and  my  wants  are  few  enough.  Oh, 
rats  !  I  must  have  a  frock  coat ;  every  decent 
chap  has.  And  you  could  n't  possibly  call 
that  extravagant,  because  I  sha'n't  think  of 
187 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

squaring  it  for  a  year  at  least.  Of  course  I 
don't  expect  you  to  understand  these  things, 
Kitty  ;  it 's  impossible  for  a  man  to  do  the 
cheap,  like  a  woman." 

And  Katharine,  who  always  wanted  to  re- 
constitute society,  with  a  very  limited  knowledge 
of  its  first  principles,  would  strike  in  with  a 
vigorous  denunciation  of  his  comfortable  phi- 
losophy ;  and  he  would  listen  and  laugh  at  her, 
and  make  no  effort  to  support  his  own  opinion 
which  he  continued  to  hold,  nevertheless.  He 
was  the  best  companion  she  could  have  had 
just  then  ;  he  never  varied,  whatever  her  mood 
was,  and  he  kept  her  from  thinking  too  much 
about  herself,  which  was  a  habit  she  had  ac- 
quired since  she  last  saw  him.  Besides,  he  was 
a  link  with  her  childhood,  that  period  of  vague 
existence  which  had  held  no  problems  to  be 
solved,  and  had  never  inspired  her  with  a  wish 
to  reform  human  nature.  So  they  spent  many 
evenings  and  half-holidays  together,  and  they 
went  frequently  to  the  theatre  and  sat  in  the 
gallery,  which  often  entertained  them  as  much 
as  the  play  itself;  and  he  loved  to  pay  for  her, 
with  a  manly  air,  at  the  box  office,  and  always 
made  the  same  kind  of  weak  resistance  after- 
wards, when  Katharine  insisted  on  refunding 
her  share,  under  the  lamp  at  the  corner  of 
1*8 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

Queen's  Crescent,  Marylebone.  Sometimes, 
when  they  were  unusually  well  off,  they  would 
dine  at  an  Italian  restaurant  first,  where  they 
could  have  many  wonderful  dishes  for  two 
shillings,  and  a  bottle  of  tenpenny  claret  On 
one  occasion  —  it  was  Ted's  birthday,  and  his 
cousin  had  sent  him  a  five-pound  note  — 
they  had  more  than  an  ordinary  jubilation. 

"  Buck  up,  and  get  ready ! "  he  had  rushed 
into  the  little  distempered  hall  to  say.  "We'll 
go  to  a  new  place,  where  the  waiters  are  n't 
dirty,  and  the  wine  isn't  like  sulphuric  acid. 
And,  Kitty,  put  on  that  hat  with  the  pink 
roses,  won't  you  ?  " 

They  did  their  best,  on  that  memorable 
evening,  to  reduce  the  five  pound-note,  and 
to  behave  as  though  they  were  millionaires. 
They  drove  in  a  hansom  to  the  restaurant  in 
question,  which  was  a  very  brilliant  little  one 
close  to  the  theatres,  where  they  had  a  waiter 
to  themselves  instead  of  the  fifth  part  of  a 
very  distracted  and  breathless  one.  The  state 
of  Ted's  pockets  could  always  be  estimated 
by  the  amount  of  attention  he  exacted  from 
the  waiter ;  and  this  evening  there  was  abso- 
lutely nothing  he  would  do  for  himself,  from 
the  disposal  of  his  walking  stick  to  the  choice 
of  the  wine. 

189 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  It's  a  very  good  tip  to  start  by  taking  the 
waiter  into  your  confidence,"  he  assured  Kitty, 
when  it  had  just  been  settled  for  them  that  they 
were  to  have  bisque  soup. 

"  It 's  convenient,  sometimes,  when  every- 
thing is  written  in  French,"  observed  Katha- 
rine. Ted  changed  the  conversation.  On 
his  twenty-second  birthday  he  felt  inclined, 
for  once  in  a  way,  to  assert  himself. 

"I'm  rather  gone  on  this  place ;  pretty, 
is  n't  it  ?  "  he  continued.  "  All  the  candle- 
shades  are  red,  white,  and  blue ;  mean  to  say 
you  did  n't  twig  that  ?  You  're  getting  less 
alive  every  day,  Kit !  Awfully  up-to-date 
place,  this  !  I  don't  suppose  there  is  a  single 
decent  woman  in  the  room,  bar  yourself." 

He  said  this  with  such  pride  in  the  knowl- 
edge, that  she  would  not  have  robbed  him  of 
his  satisfaction  for  the  world. 

"  They  look  much  the  same  as  other  women 
to  me,"  she  observed,  after  a  quick  survey  of 
the  little  tables. 

"That's  because  you  don't  know.  How 
should  you  ?  Women  never  do,  bless  them  ! 
Do  you  like  fizz  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Ted,  don't !  Is  n't  it  a  pity  to  spend 
such  a  lot  just  for  nothing  ? "  she  remonstrated. 
She  had  visions  of  all  the  unpaid  bills  he  had 
190 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

disclosed  to  her  in  one  of  his  recent  pessimis- 
tic moods. 

"My  dear  Kitty,  you  really  must  learn 
to  enjoy  life.  Don't  be  so  beastly  serious 
over  everything.  Bills  ?  What  bills  ?  There 
are  n't  any  to-night.  The  art  of  living  is 
knowing  when  to  be  extravagant." 

And  she  had  to  acknowledge,  for  the  rest 
of  the  evening,  that  he  had  certainly  mastered 
the  art  of  living.  They  went  to  a  music  hall, 
and  sat  in  the  stalls  ;  and  Katharine  enjoyed 
it  because  Ted  was  there,  and  because  he  was 
so  funny  all  through,  —  first,  in  his  fear  of  being 
asked  by  the  conjurer  for  his  hat  which  was  a 
new  one,  or  his  watch  which  was  only  repre- 
sented by  his  watch  chain ;  and  secondly, 
because  he  tried  so  hard  to  distract  her  at- 
tention from  the  songs  that  were  inclined  to 
be  risky.  And  Ted  enjoyed  it  because  it 
was  the  thing  to  do,  and  because  there  would 
be  hardly  any  of  that  fiver  left  by  the  time 
he  got  home. 

"  Then  you  '11  look  me  up  at  the  office  at  five 
to-morrow  ;  you  won't  forget  ? "  he  asked  rather 
wistfully,  when  they  parted  on  the  doorstep. 

"  Of  course  I  won't  forget,"  she  answered, 
hastily.  "  Dear  old  Ted,  I  have  enjoyed  it 
so  much  !  " 

191 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  Good-night,  dear,"  he  said,  as  he  turned 
away.  And  his  tone  haunted  her  rather,  as 
she  groped  her  way  up  to  bed  in  the  dark. 
She  began  to  feel  half  afraid,  with  some  an- 
noyance at  the  thought,  that  this  pleasant 
state  of  things  could  not  go  on  for  ever,  and 
that  Ted  was  going  to  spoil  it  all  again  as 
he  had  done  once  before,  by  taking  their  rela- 
tionship seriously.  So  she  prepared  to  meet 
him,  the  next  afternoon,  with  a  reserve  of 
manner  that  was  meant  to  indicate  her  dis- 
pleasure ;  but  he  disconcerted  her  very  much 
by  asking  her  bluntly  why  the  dickens  she  was 
playing  so  poorly ;  and  she  felt  unreasonably 
annoyed  to  find  that  her  fears  were  ground- 
less. So  for  some  time  longer  they  went  on 
as  before,  in  the  same  happy-go-lucky  kind 
of  way  that  had  always  characterised  them. 
She  learned  to  know  several  of  his  friends, 
most  of  them  genuine  boyish  fellows,  who 
appealed  to  her  more  by  their  affection  for 
Ted  than  by  any  qualities  they  possessed 
themselves.  They  seemed  very  much  alike, 
though  she  was  bound  to  acknowledge  that 
this  impression  may  have  been  conveyed  by 
the  cut  of  their  clothes  and  the  shape  of 
their  hats,  which  did  not  differ  by  so  much  as 
a  hair's  breadth.  But  Ted  always  shone  by 
192 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

comparison  with  the  best  of  them.  He  was 
the  only  one  of  his  set  who  did  not  take 
himself  seriously  ;  he  had  a  sense  of  humour, 
too,  and  this  compensated  for  the  exhausted 
manner  which  he  felt  obliged  to  assume  as 
a  mark  of  fellowship  with  them. 

He  asked  her,  one  night,  with  some  diffi- 
dence, if  she  would  mind  coming  to  tea  in  his 
chambers  on  the  following  Sunday. 

"  I  should  n't  think  of  asking  you  to  come 
alone,"  he  hastened  to  add  ;  "  but  Monty  is 
going  to  bring  his  sister  along,  so  that 's  all 
square  as  long  as  you  don't  mind." 

"Mind!  Why,  of  course  not,"  said  Katha- 
rine, in  frank  astonishment.  "  What  is  there 
to  mind  ?  I  want  to  see  your  chambers  very 
much.  I  have  often  wondered  why  you  never 
asked  me  before." 

Ted  stared  at  her  for  a  moment,  and  then 
began  tracing  what  remained  of  the  pattern  in 
the  linoleum  with  his  walking  stick.  They 
were  standing,  as  usual,  in  the  hall  of  number 
ten,  Queen's  Crescent. 

"  What  a  babe  you  are,  Kitty  !  "  he  said,  with- 
out looking  up ;  and  Katharine  reddened  as 
she  suddenly  realised  his  meaning.  Of  course 
Ted  was  no  longer  a  boy,  and  she  was  no 
longer  a  child ;  and  she  was  on  precisely  the 
13  193 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

same  footing  with  him  in  the  eyes  of  the 
world  as  she  was  with  Paul  Wilton.  Uncon- 
sciously, she  compared  the  attitude  of  the  two 
men  under  similar  circumstances ;  Paul,  who 
was  unscrupulous  in  letting  her  visit  him  as 
long  as  no  one  knew  of  it ;  and  Ted,  who  had 
no  views  on  the  matter  at  all  but  merely  wished 
to  spare  her  any  annoyance. 

"  I  see,"  she  said.  "  Who  is  Monty  ?  "  She 
always  felt  nervous  when  he  offered  to  intro- 
duce her  to  any  of  his  friends ;  because  she 
knew  very  well  that  he  warned  them  all  before- 
hand that  she  had  "  ideas,"  and  this  put  her  at 
a  distinct  disadvantage  to  begin  with. 

"  Oh,  Monty 's  awfully  smart !  He  knows 
no  end.  You  '11  like  Monty,  I  expect.  He 
wants  to  meet  you,  awfully ;  says  he  likes  the 
look  of  your  photograph.  I  told  him  how 
bally  clever  you  were,  and  all  that.  Monty  's 
clever,  too ;  he  reads  Ibsen." 

Katharine  received  this  proof  of  Monty's 
intellectual  ability  with  some  cynicism  which, 
however,  she  was  careful  to  conceal. 

"  I  shall  be  delighted  to  meet  him,"  she  said. 
"  What  time  shall  I  come  ?  " 

"  Oh,  any  time ;  four  will  do.  And,  I  say, 
Kit,  I  suppose  I  must  have  cream,  must  n't  I  ? 
You  can't  give  Monty  milk  that 's  been  sitting 

194 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

for  hours,  and  spoof  him  that  it 's  cream.  I  've 
done  that  sometimes,  but  you  can't  spoof 
Monty." 

"  Oh,  I  '11  bring  the  cream.  I  know  a  shop 
where  they  '11  let  me  have  it  on  Sunday,"  said 
Katharine  confidently  ;  and  Ted  left  comforted. 

After  all,  Monty's  sister  could  not  come; 
but  Ted's  sense  of  the  fitness  of  things  was 
satisfied  by  his  having  asked  her,  and,  as 
Monty  himself  came  and  did  not  seem  afraid 
of  Katharine  as  all  his  other  friends  were,  he 
felt  that  his  tea-party  was  a  success.  The  only 
thing  that  marred  his  enjoyment  was  the  fact 
that  Katharine,  for  some  unaccountable  caprice, 
refused  to  be  intellectual  in  spite  of  the  efforts 
of  Monty,  whose  real  name  proved  to  be  Mon- 
tague, to  draw  her  out.  Monty  was  a  young 
man  with  a  gentlemanly  view  of  life,  tempered 
by  a  great  desire  to  be  thought  advanced ;  and 
he  began  the  conversation  with  a  will. 

"  Awfully  clever  new  thing  at  the  Royalty  ! 
Suppose  you  Ve  seen  it,  Miss  Austen  ?  "  he 
began.  "  Awfully  plucky  of  the  Independent 
Theatre  to  put  it  on,  it  is  really." 

"  Is  it  ?  "  smiled  Katharine.  "  I  have  n't 
seen  it  yet.  Ted  and  I  hate  those  advanced 
plays,  —  they  're  so  slow  as  a  rule.  Comic 
operas,  we  like  best." 

195 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

Monty  seemed  surprised;  and  Ted  was  a 
little  disconcerted  by  this  frank  avowal  of  his 
own  ordinary  tastes. 

"  You  see,  Kit  only  goes  to  those  things  to 
please  me,"  he  said,  apologetically.  "  She 's 
just  as  keen  on  all  those  humpy  plays  as  you 
are,  don't  you  know  ? " 

Monty  was  not  sure  that  he  knew,  but  he 
turned  to  another  branch  of  art. 

"Talking  about  posters,"  he  said, — which  was 
only  his  favourite  method  of  opening  a  conver- 
sation, for  nobody  was  talking  about  posters  at 
all,  —  "  have  you  seen  that  awfully  clever  one  of 
the  new  paper,  l  The  Future '  ?  It's  by  quite 
a  new  man,  in  the  French  style,  so  bold  and 
yet  so  subtle.  But  of  course  you  must  have 
seen  it." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  laughed  Katharine,  "  I  should 
think  I  had !  You  mean  the  red  one,  don't 
you,  with  a  black  sun  and  a  cactus  thing,  and 
a  lot  of  spots  all  over  it  ?  Ted  and  I  were 
laughing  at  it,  only  yesterday.  Do  you  really 
think  it  is  good  ?  " 

Monty  said  he  really  did  think  so  ;  and  Ted, 
who  was  torn  in  two  by  his  admiration  for  both 
of  them,  came  to  his  rescue. 

"  You  had  better  be  careful,  Kitty,"  he  said, 
anxiously.     "  Monty  does  know." 
196 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

"  Of  course,"  said  Katharine  politely,  "  it  is 
only  a  matter  of  taste,  is  n't  it,  Mr.  Montague  ?  " 

"  Quite  so,"  replied  Monty,  concealing  his 
feelings  of  superiority  as  well  as  he  could. 
"  By  the  way,  talking  of  taste,  what  do  you 
think  of  the  new  Danish  poet  ?  Rather  strong, 
don't  you  think  ?  " 

Katharine  sighed,  and  glanced  nervously  at 
Ted. 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  he 's  all  right,"  she  said, 
with  the  exaggerated  solemnity  that  would  have 
betrayed  to  any  one  who  knew  her  well  how 
close  she  was  to  laughter ;  "  but  he  is  n't  a  bit 
new,  is  he  ?  I  mean,  he  only  says  the  same 
things  over  again  that  the  old  poets  said  ever 
so  much  better.  Don't  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  They  all  give  you  the  hump,  any  way," 
put  in  Ted.  But  Monty  ignored  his  remark, 
and  said  that  he  never  read  any  of  the  old 
poets ;  he  preferred  the  new  ones  because  they 
went  so  much  deeper. 

"  Hang  it  all,  Kitty ;  what  a  rum  girl  you 
are  !  "  said  Ted,  in  a  disappointed  tone.  "  A 
chap  never  knows  where  to  have  you.  I  did 
think  you  were  advanced,  if  you  could  n't  be 
anything  else." 

At  this  point,  Katharine  yielded  to  an  irre- 
sistible desire  to  laugh ;  and  Ted  looked 
197 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

anxiously  at  the  friend  to  whom  he  had  given 
such  a  false  impression  of  her  "  ideas."  But, 
to  his  surprise,  the  great  Monty  himself  joined 
in  her  laughter,  and  seemed  inexpressibly 
relieved  to  find  that  she  was  not  nearly  so 
intellectual  as  she  had  been  painted,  and  it  was 
therefore  no  longer  incumbent  on  him  to  sus- 
tain the  conversation  at  such  a  high  pitch. 

"  Now  that  we  have  settled  I  am  not 
advanced,"  said  Katharine,  turning  up  her 
veil,  "  supposing  we  have  some  tea."  And 
for  the  rest  of  the  afternoon  they  behaved  like 
rational  beings,  and  discussed  the  low  come- 
dians and  the  comic  papers. 

"  All  the  same,"  Ted  complained,  when 
Monty  had  gone,  "  he 's  awfully  clever,  really. 
You  may  rot  as  much  as  you  like,  but  Monty 
does  know  about  things.  You  don't  know 
what  a  fool  he  makes  me  feel." 

"  He  need  n't  do  that,"  said  Katharine.  "  It 
would  be  the  kindest  thing  in  the  world  not 
to  let  him  read  another  magazine  or  newspa- 
per for  six  months.  I  think  he  is  very  nice, 
though,  when  he  lets  himself  go." 

Ted  looked  at  her  a  little  sadly. 

"  You  seemed  to  be  getting  on  beastly  well, 
I  thought,"  he  said. 

"  He  is  certainly  very  amusing,  and  it  was 
198 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

nice  of  you  to  ask  me  to  meet  him,"  continued 
Katharine,  innocently.  Ted  walked  to  the  fire- 
place, and  studied  himself  silently  in  the  look- 
ing-glass. 

"  I  wish  I  was  n't  such  a  damned  fool,"  he 
burst  out  savagely.  Katharine  stood  still  with 
amazement. 

"  Ted  !  "  she  cried.  "  Ted  !  What  do  you 
mean  ? " 

Ted  planted  his  elbows  on  the  mantel-shelf, 
and  buried  his  face  in  his  hands. 

"Ted!"  she  said  again,  with  distress  in  her 
voice.  "  What  do  you  mean,  Ted  ?  As  if  I  — 
oh,  Ted  !  And  a  man  like  that !  You  know 
piles  more  than  he  does,  old  boy,  ever  so  much 
more.  You  don't  put  on  any  side,  that 's  all ; 
and  he  does.  You  must  n't  say  that  any  more, 
Ted  ;  oh,  you  must  n't !  It  hurts." 

"  You  know  you  are  spoofing  me,"  he  said,  in 
muffled  tones.  "  You  know  you  only  say  that 
just  to  please  me.  You  think  I  am  a  fool  all 
the  time,  only  you  are  a  good  old  brick  and 
pretend  not  to  see  it.  As  if  I  did  n't  twig !  I 
ought  never  to  have  been  born." 

o 

Katharine  walked  swiftly  over  to  him,  and 
laid  her  hand  on  his  arm.     She  did  not  reason 
with  herself;    she  only  knew  that  she  wanted 
to  comfort  him  at  any  price. 
199 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

"  Ted,"  she  said,  earnestly,  "  /  am  glad  you 
were  born." 

He  turned  round  suddenly,  and  looked  at 
her ;  and  she  started  nervously  at  the  eagerness 
of  his  expression.  He  had  not  looked  like 
that  when  he  made  love  to  her  in  the  summer- 
house. 

"  Do  you  mean  that,  dear  ?  " 

"  Oh,  don't  be  so  serious,  Ted  !  Of  course 
I  mean  it ;  of  course  I  am  glad  you  were 
born.  Think  how  forlorn  I  should  have  been 
without  you  ;  it  would  have  been  awful  if  I 
had  been  alone."  He  looked  only  half  satis- 
fied ;  and  she  went  on  desperately,  caring  for 
nothing  but  to  charm  away  the  miserable  look 
from  his  face.  "  Dear  Ted,  you  know  what 
you  are  to  me  ;  you  know  I  don't  care  a  little 
bit  for  Monty,  or  anybody  else,  either." 

"  Do  you  mean  that,  Kitty  ? "  he  asked 
again,  in  a  voice  that  he  could  not  steady. 
"  Not  anybody  else,  dear  ?  " 

Something  indefinable,  something  that  made 
her  long  for  another  man's  voice  to  be  trem- 
bling for  love  of  her,  as  his  was  trembling  now, 
seemed  to  come  between  them  and  to  strike 
her  dumb.  He  looked  at  her  searchingly  for 
a  moment,  then  shook  off  her  hand  and  pushed 
her  away  from  him.  She  shivered  as  the  suspi- 
200 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

cion  crossed  her  mind  that  he  had  guessed  her 
thoughts,  though  she  knew  quite  well  that  the 
renewal  of  her  friendship  with  Paul  was  un- 
known to  him.  She  went  up  to  him  again,  and 
let  him  seize  her  two  hands  and  crush  them 
until  she  could  have  cried  out  with  the  pain. 

"  You  are  the  best  fellow  in  the  world,  Ted," 
she  said.  "  But  you  must  n't  look  like  that ; 
oh,  don't !  I  am  not  worth  it,  Ted ;  I  am  not 
nearly  good  enough  for  you,  dear,  —  you  know 
I  am  not.  I  am  never  going  to  marry  any  one  ; 
I  am  not  the  sort  to  marry ;  I  am  hard,  and 
cold,  and  bitter.  Sometimes,  I  think  I  shall 
just  work  and  fight  my  way  to  the  end.  I 
know  I  shall  never  be  happy  in  the  way  most 
women  are  happy.  But  I  will  be  your  chum, 
and  stick  to  you  always,  Ted.  May  I  ?  " 

"  Oh,  shut  up ! "  said  Ted,  almost  in  a 
whisper;  and  the  tears  sprang  to  her  eyes. 
She  stood  on  tiptoe,  and  impetuously  kissed 
the  only  place  on  his  cheek  she  could  reach. 
At  the  moment,  it  seemed  the  only  right  and 
proper  thing  to  be  done. 

"  I  could  n't  help  it.  I  had  to ;  and  I 
don't  care,"  she  said,  defiantly.  And  Ted 
wrung  her  hands  again,  and  let  them  go. 

"  I  suppose  none  of  it  is  your  fault,  Kit, 
but  —  " 

201 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

There  was  a  pause,  and  Katharine  avoided 
his  eyes,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life. 

"  It 's  time  to  go,"  she  said.  "  Will  you  see 
me  home  ?  " 

She  fetched  him  his  hat  and  coat,  and  Ted 
gave  himself  a  shake. 

"  He  did  n't  take  cream,  after  all,"  he  said, 
with  a  poor  attempt  at  a  laugh. 


202 


CHAPTER   XI 

A  LETTER  came  from  Paul,  just  before  Christmas, 
to  say  that  he  was  going  to  remain  at  Monte 
Carlo  for  another  month.  Knowing  his  pas- 
sion for  warmth  and  sunshine,  she  was  not 
surprised ;  she  was  hardly  even  disappointed. 
She  began  to  wonder  what  her  feelings  would 
have  been  if  he  had  decided  to  remain  another 
year  instead  of  another  month  ;  and  again  she 
was  obliged  to  own  that  the  solution  of  her 
own  state  of  mind  was  beyond  her.  The 
Keeleys  went  abroad  about  the  same  time, 
which  took  away  her  chief  centre  of  amuse- 
ment; and  her  former  mood  of  satisfaction 
was  succeeded  by  one  of  serene  indifference,  in 
which  she  continued  until  she  went  home  for 
the  holidays.  At  Ivingdon  the  dulness  of 
four  weeks,  passed  almost  entirely  in  the  com- 
pany of  her  father  and  Miss  Esther,  caused  the 
old  unsatisfied  feeling  to  return  to  her  ;  and 
she  longed  for  a  vent  for  the  restless  energy  that 
wore  her  out  as  long  as  there  was  no  work  to 
be  done.  She  grew  impatient  once  more  for  a 
203 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

glimpse  of  Paul  Wilton,  for  the  touch  of  his 
thin,  nervous  hand,  and  the  sound  of  his 
quiet,  unemotional  voice ;  and  she  acted  over 
and  over  again,  in  her  mind,  how  they  would 
meet  once  more  in  the  little  room  over- 
looking Fountain  Court,  what  he  would  be 
sure  to  say  to  her,  and  what  she  knew  she 
would  say  to  him.  No  letter  came  from 
Paul  all  through  those  weary  days,  and 
she  only  wrote  to  him  once.  The  pathetic 
note  was  very  prominent  in  that  one  letter, 
and  she  consoled  herself  with  her  own  un- 
happiness  while  she  awaited  the  answer  to  it ; 
but  when  no  answer  came  her  pride  revolted, 
and  she  wished  passionately  that  she  had  never 
sent  it. 

"  Can't  you  stay  another  week,  child  ?  "  said 
Miss  Esther,  as  the  end  of  the  holidays  drew 
near.  "  You  don't  look  much  better  than 
when  you  came,  though  it 's  not  to  be  expected 
you  should,  working  away  as  you  do.  I  never 
heard  such  nonsense,  and  all  to  no  purpose  ! 
When  I  was  a  girl  —  But  there,  what 's  the 

?M 

And  Katharine,  who  had  heard  it  all  before, 
explained    over    again    with    increasing    impa- 
tience that  her  work  was  a  definite  thing  and 
required  her  presence   on  a  certain  day.     She 
204 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

had  never  felt  less  pleased  with  herself  than  on 
the  day  of  her  departure,  when  she  left  the 
home  that  had  once  been  the  whole  world  to 
her,  and  took  leave  of  the  people  who  no 
longer  believed  in  her.  But  as  she  neared 
London  a  sensation  of  coming  events  dispelled 
the  atmosphere  of  disapproval  which  had  been 
stifling  her  for  a  whole  month,  and  she  once 
more  felt  the  mistress  of  her  own  situation 
and  her  own  future.  Here  was  life  and 
activity,  work  and  success,  and  some  of  it 
was  going  to  be  hers.  And  Paul  Wilton 
would  soon  be  coming  home  again.  They 
told  her  at  Queen's  Crescent  how  well  she 
was  looking,  when  she  appeared  in  the  dining- 
room  at  tea-time ;  and  she  laughed  back  in 
reply  as  she  contrasted  their  greeting  with  her 
aunt's  farewell  words. 

"  Just  a  year  since  I  first  came,"  she  said  to 
Phyllis.  "  What  a  lot  has  happened  since  then  ! 
I  don't  believe  it  was  myself  at  all ;  it  must 
have  been  somebody  else.  Oh,  I  am  glad  I 
am  different  now !  " 

"  I  remember,"  said  Phyllis,  who  never 
rhapsodised.  "  Your  face  was  smutty  after 
your  journey,  and  you  looked  as  though  you 
would  kill  any  one  who  spoke  to  you." 

"And  you  were  eating  bread  and  treacle," 
205 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

retorted  Katharine.     "  Let 's  have  some  now, 
shall  we? " 

"  By  the  way,"  said  Phyllis  presently, 
"  there 's  a  letter  for  you  upstairs.  It  came 
about  a  week  ago,,  and  I  clean  forgot  to  forward 
it.  I  'm  awfully  sorry,  but  I  don't  suppose  it 
matters  much  because  it 's  got  a  foreign  post- 
mark." 

The  laughter  died  out  of  Katharine's  face, 
as  she  put  down  her  teacup  and  stared  speech- 
lessly at  her  friend. 

"  Shall  I  go  and  fetch  it  ?  "  continued  the 
unconscious  Phyllis,  as  she  deluged  her  last 
morsel  of  bread  with  more  treacle  than  any 
force  of  cohesion  would  allow  it  to  hold. 
"  Perhaps  you  're  ready  to  come  up  yourself, 
though  ?  I  've  prepared  a  glorification  for  you 
—  Hullo  !  what  are  you  in  such  a  desperate 
hurry  about  ?  " 

When  she  arrived  breathless  at  the  top  of  the 
house,  Katharine  was  already  in  her  cubicle, 
turning  everything  over  in  a  wild  and  fruitless 
search. 

"  Go  away  ! "  she  said  shortly,  when  Phyllis 
came  in.  "  It  was  the  only  thing  I  asked  you 
to  do,  and  I  thought  I  could  trust  you.  I 
shall  know  better  another  time.  What  are  all 
these  things  doing  here  ?  " 
206 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

She  knocked  her  head,  as  she  spoke,  against 
a  string  of  Chinese  lanterns.  There  were 
flowers  on  the  mantel-shelf,  and  a  look  of  fes- 
tivity in  the  dingy  little  room ;  but  it  was  all 
lost  on  Katharine,  who  continued  to  open  and 
shut  the  drawers  with  trembling  hands,  and  to 
search  in  every  likely  place  for  her  letter,  until 
Phyllis  put  an  end  to  her  aimless  task  by 
bringing  it  to  her  in  eloquent  silence.  Then 
she  stole  away  again  ;  and  Katharine  sat  down  in 
the  midst  of  the  confusion  she  had  created,  and 
became  absorbed  in  its  contents.  It  was  very 
short,  and  there  was  hardly  any  news  in  it  that 
could  not  have  been  extracted  from  a  guide- 
book ;  but  she  spent  quite  half  an  hour  in  read- 
ing it  and  pondering  over  it,  until  she  knew 
every  one  of  its  stilted  phrases  by  heart.  He 
was  very  well  and  it  was  very  hot,  and  he  was 
sitting  by  the  open  window  looking  down  on  the 
orange  groves,  and  the  sea  was  a  splendid  colour, 
and  there  were  some  very  decent  people  in  the 
hotel,  and  amongst  them  her  relations  the  Kee- 
leys.  It  was  hard  to  look  up  at  last,  with  dazed 
eyes,  and  to  discover  that  she  was  in  Queen's 
Crescent,  Marylebone,  instead  of  being  where 
her  thoughts  were,  in  the  sunny  South  of  France. 

"  Hullo,"  said  Phyllis,  who  was  standing  at 
the  end  of  the  bed. 

207 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

"  Yes  ? "  said  Katharine,  smiling.  "  Do 
you  want  anything  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Phyllis,  and  crept  away 
again.  Katharine  sat  and  pondered  a  little 
while  longer.  Presently,  she  shivered  and 
made  the  discovery  that  she  was  cold,  and 
she  jumped  up  and  stretched  herself. 

"  I  suppose  I  must  unpack,"  she  said,  still 
smiling  contentedly.  "  Where  has  Phyllis 
gone,  I  wonder  ?  " 

She  went  to  the  door  and  made  the  pas- 
sage ring  with  her  voice,  until  Phyllis  hurried 
out  of  a  neighbouring  room  and  apologised 
for  not  being  there  when  she  was  wanted. 

"  I  believe  you  were  there  when  I  did  n't 
want  you,"  said  Katharine  candidly.  "  Was  n't 
I  cross  to  you  or  something?"  Her  foot 
touched  one  of  the  discarded  Chinese  lanterns. 

"  Hullo  !  I  thought  there  were  some  lan- 
terns somewhere.  Where  are  they  gone  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  said  Phyllis,  going  down  on  her 
knees  before  the  box.  "  You  must  have  been 
dreaming." 

"  I  was  n't  dreaming,  and  you  're  a  foolish 
old  dear,  and  I  am  a  selfish  pig,"  cried  Katha- 
rine penitently. 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  said  Phyllis  again.  "  I  was  the 
pig,  you  see,  because  I  forgot  your  letter. 
208 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

You  '11  rumple  my  hair,  if  you  do  that 
again." 

Katharine  did  hug  her  again,  nevertheless, 
and  accused  herself  of  all  the  offences  she 
could  remember,  whether  they  related  to  the 
present  occasion  or  not ;  and  Phyllis  silenced 
her  in  a  gruff  voice,  and  the  unpacking  pro- 
ceeded by  degrees. 

"  Don't  you  think,"  said  Katharine  irrele- 
vantly, "that  women  are  much  more  selfish 
than  men,  in  some  ways  ? " 

"  What  ways  ?  " 

"  I  mean  when  they  are  absorbed  in  any- 
thing. Now,  a  man  would  n't  behave  like  a 
cad  to  his  best  friend,  just  because  he  hap- 
pened to  be  in  love  with  a  girl,  would  he  ? 
But  a  woman  would.  She  would  betray  her 
nearest  and  dearest  for  the  sake  of  a  man.  I 
am  certain  I  should.  Women  are  so  wolfish, 
directly  they  feel  things  ;  and  they  seem  to  lose 
their  sense  of  honour  when  they  fall  in  love. 
Don't  they?" 

"  Where  do  the  stockings  go  ? "  was  all 
Phyllis  said. 

"  Perhaps,"  continued  Katharine,  "  it  is  be- 
cause a  woman  really  has  stronger  feelings  than 
a  man." 

"  I  should  n't  wonder,"  said  Phyllis.  "  Who 
H  209 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

packed  the  sponge  bag  next  to  your  best 
hat  ? " 

"  I  don't  think  it  matters,"  said  Katharine 
mildly.  "  I  was  saying  —  What  are  you 
laughing  at  ?  " 

"  Nothing.  Only,  it  is  so  delightful  to 
have  you  back  again,  moralising  away  while 
I  do  all  the  work,"  laughed  Phyllis. 

Katharine  owned  humbly  that  Phyllis  always 
did  all  the  work,  and  Phyllis  bluntly  repu- 
diated the  charge,  and  insisted  that  Katharine 
was  the  most  unselfish  person  in  the  world, 
and  Katharine  ended  in  allowing  herself  to  be 
persuaded  that  she  was ;  and  the  rest  of  the 
evening  passed  in  an  amicable  exchange  of 
news.  Even  the  "  cat  in  the  pie  dish  "  seemed 
appetising  that  evening. 

Her  feeling  of  satisfaction  was  increased 
when  she  arrived  at  school  the  next  morning 
and  found  that  Mrs.  Downing  was  anxious  to 
speak  to  her.  An  interview  with  the  lady 
principal  at  the  beginning  of  term  generally 
foreboded  some  good. 

"  I  want  you  to  give  up  the  junior  teaching 
this  term,  my  dear  Miss  Austen,"  she  began, 
after  greeting  her  warmly.  "  You  are  really 
too  good  for  it,  far  too  good.  Mr.  Wilton 
was  quite  right  when  he  told  me  how  cultured 
210 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

you  were,  quite  right.  At  the  time,  I  must 
confess  to  feeling  very  doubtful ;  you  seemed 
so  inexperienced,  —  so  very  young,  in  fact. 
But  I  have  come  to  think  that  in  your  case  it 
is  no  drawback  to  be  young ;  indeed,  the  dear 
children  seem  to  prefer  it.  Their  attachment 
for  you  is  extraordinary  ;  pardon  me,  I  should 
have  said  phenomenal.  And  the  way  you 
manage  them  is  perfect,  quite  perfect,  —  just 
the  touch  of  firmness  to  show  that  your  kind- 
ness is  not  weakness.  Admirable  !  I  am  most 
grateful  to  Mr.  Wilton  for  introducing  you 
to  me,  most  grateful.  Such  a  charming  man, 
is  he  not  ?  So  distinguished  !  " 

She  paused  for  breath,  and  Katharine  mur- 
mured an  acknowledgment  of  Mr.  Wilton's 
distinction. 

"  To  come  to  the  point,  my  dear  Miss  Aus- 
ten, I  should  be  charmed,  quite  charmed,  if 
you  would  take  the  senior  work  this  term,  — 
English  in  all  its  branches,  French  translation, 
Latin,  and  drawing.  I  think  you  know  the 
curriculum,  do  you  not  ?  Thank  you  very 
much  ;  that  is  so  good  of  you  !  Did  you  have 
a  pleasant  holiday  ?  There  is  no  need  to  ask 
how  you  are,  —  the  very  picture  of  health,  I  am 
sure !  And  the  architecture  lectures,  too ;  I 
should  be  more  than  grateful  if  you  would 
211 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

continue  them  as  before.  Thank  you  so 
much  —  Ah,  I  beg  your  pardon  ?  " 

Katharine  here  made  a  desperate  inroad 
into  the  torrent  of  words,  and  mentioned  that 
she  knew  no  Latin  and  had  never  taught  any 
drawing. 

"  Indeed  ?  But  you  are  too  modest,  my 
dear  Miss  Austen  ;  it  is  your  one  failing,  if 
I  may  say  so.  Of  course,  if  you  wish  —  then 
let  it  be  so.  But  I  am  convinced  you  would 
do  both  as  well  as  Miss  Smithson,  quite  con- 
vinced. However,  that  can  easily  be  arranged. 
The  salary  I  think  you  know,  and  the  lectures 
will  be  as  before.  Indeed,  we  are  most  for- 
tunate to  have  so  delightful  a  lecturer,  most 
fortunate.  Ah,  there  is  one  more  thing,"  con- 
tinued Mrs.  Downing,  leading  her  towards  the 
door.  The  rest  of  her  speech  was  said  on  the 
landing  which  happened,  fortunately,  to  be 
empty.  "  This  is  between  ourselves,  my  dear 
Miss  Austen,  —  quite  between  ourselves.  I 
should  be  more  than  grateful  if  you  would  act 
as  chaperon  to  the  music  master  this  term. 
It  may  appear  strange  that  I  should  ask  you 
to  do  this,  —  indeed,  I  may  say  peculiar  ;  but  I 
do  so  in  the  conviction  that  I  can  trust  you 
better  than  any  one  else.  Of  course  you  will 
not  mention  what  I  have  said !  I  am  sure 

212 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

you   understand    what    I    mean.     That   is   so 
charming  of  you  !     Thank  you  so  much  !  " 

And  the  lady  principal  returned  to  say  very 
much  the  same  thing  over  again  to  the  next 
teacher  whom  she  summoned.  But  Katharine, 
who  had  long  since  learnt  to  regard  her  insin- 
cerity as  inevitable,  merely  congratulated  her- 
self on  the  practical  results  of  her  interview, 
and  thoroughly  enjoyed  the  contest  that  ensued 
when  her  new  pupils  found  they  were  going  to 
be  taught  by  a  junior  mistress.  She  felt  very 
elated  when  she  came  out  of  it  victorious ;  and 
for  the  next  week  or  two  everything  seemed  to 
go  well  with  her.  She  had  made  a  position  for 
herself,  although  every  one  had  told  her  it  would 
be  impossible ;  there  were  people  who  believed 
in  her  thoroughly,  and  there  were  others,  like 
Ted  and  Phyllis  Hyam,  who  did  not  under- 
stand her  but  worshipped  her  blindly.  It 
was  all  very  gratifying  to  her,  after  the  dull 
month  she  had  spent  at  home;  and  for  the 
first  time  she  threw  off  the  reserve  she 
usually  showed,  though  unconsciously,  towards 
the  working  gentlewomen  of  Queen's  Cres- 
cent, and  talked  about  herself  in  a  way  that 
astonished  them  not  a  little.  Work  to  them 
was  a  sordid  necessity,  and  they  were  a  little 
jealous  of  this  brilliant  girl,  with  the  youth 
213 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

and  the  talent,  who  found  no  difficulty  in 
winning  success  where  they  had  barely  earned 
a  living,  and  who  seemed  to  enjoy  her  life 
into  the  bargain. 

"Who  is  that  girl  with  the  jolly  laugh  and 
the  untidy  hair  ? "  she  overheard  a  stranger 
asking  Polly  Newland  one  day. 

"  That  one  ?  "  was  the  reply,  given  in  a 
contemptuous  tone.  "  Oh,  she 's  a  caution, 
I  can  tell  you !  Nice  ?  Oh,  I  dare  say ! 
She 's  a  prig,  though.  Phyllis  Hyam  — 
that 's  the  other  girl  in  our  room  —  thinks  all 
the  world  of  her ;  but  I  can't  stand  prigs, 
myself." 

It  was  a  little  shock  to  her  self-esteem  to 
hear  herself  described  so  baldly,  though  she  con- 
soled herself  by  the  reflection  that  Polly  had 
never  liked  her,  and  there  was  consequently 
very  little  value  to  be  attached  to  her  opinion. 
But  she  was  careful  to  remain  silent  about  her 
own  affairs  for  the  next  day  or  two ;  and  she 
startled  Ted,  one  evening,  by  asking  him  sud- 
denly, between  the  acts  of  a  melodrama,  what 
was  meant  by  a  "prig." 

"A  prig?  Oh,  I  don't  know!  It's  the 
same  thing  as  a  smug,  is  n't  it  ? " 

"  But  what  is  a  smug  ?  " 

"Well,  of  course,  a  smug  is  —  well,  he's  a 
214 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

smug,  I  suppose.  He  has  n't  got  to  be  any- 
thing else,  has  he  ?  He 's  a  played-out  sort  of 
bounder,  who  wants  to  have  a  good  time  and 
has  n't  the  pluck,  don't  you  know  ? " 

"  Are  all  prigs  bounders  ?  "  asked  Katharine, 
in  a  voice  of  dismay. 

"  Oh,  I  expect  so  !  It  does  n't  matter,  does 
it  ?  At  least,  there 's  a  chap  in  our  office  who 
is  a  bit  of  a  prig,  and  he  is  n't  a  bounder  ex- 
actly. He  's  a  very  decent  sort  of  chap,  really  ; 
I  don't  half  mind  him,  myself.  But  they 
always  call  him  a  prig  because  he  goes  in  for 
being  so  mighty  saintly ;  at  least,  that 's  what 
they  say.  I  don't  think  he  is  so  bad  as  all 
that,  myself." 

"  Is  it  priggish  to  be  good,  then  ?  I  thought 
one  ought  to  try." 

"My  dear  Kit,  of  course  you  are  a  girl ; 
don't  worry  yourself  about  it.  It's  altogether 
different  for  a  girl,  don't  you  see  ?  " 

"  Then  girls  are  never  prigs  ? "  said  Katha- 
rine eagerly. 

"  Bless  their  hearts,"  said  Ted  vaguely ;  and 
she  did  not  get  any  further  definition  from  him 
that  evening. 

And  so  the  days  grew  into  weeks,  and  her 
life  became  filled  with  new  interests,  and  she 
told  herself  she  was  learning  to  live  at  last. 
215 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

But  she  had  her  bad  days,  as  well ;  and  on 
these  she  felt  that  something  was  still  wanting 
in  her  life.  And  the  end  of  February  came, 
and  Paul  Wilton  had  not  yet  returned  to  his 
chambers  in  Essex  Court. 


216 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  courts  had  just  risen,  and  the  barristers  in 
their  wigs  and  gowns  were  hastening  through 
the  Temple  on  the  way  to  their  various  cham- 
bers. It  was  not  a  day  on  which  to  linger,  for 
a  pitiless  east  wind  swept  across  Fountain 
Court,  making  little  eddies  in  the  basin  of 
water  where  the  goldfish  swam,  and  swirling 
the  dust  into  little  sandstorms  to  blind  the 
shivering  people  who  were  using  the  thorough- 
fare down  to  the  Embankment.  The  city 
clocks  were  chiming  the  quarter  after  four,  as 
Paul  Wilton  came  along  with  the  precise  and 
measured  step  that  never  varied  whatever  the 
weather  might  be,  and  mounted  the  wooden 
staircase  that  led  to  his  rooms.  A  man  rose 
from  his  easiest  chair  as  he  walked  into  his  sit- 
ting-room, and  they  greeted  one  another  in  the 
cordial  though  restrained  manner  of  men  who 
had  not  met  for  some  time. 

"  Sorry  you  've  been  waiting,  Heaton.     Been 
here  long  ?  "  said  Paul,  throwing  off  his  gown 
with  more  rapidity  than  he  usually  showed. 
217 


The  Making  of  a  Prig 

"  Oh,  no  matter ;  my  fault  for  getting  here 
too  early,"  returned  Heaton  cheerily,  as  he  sat 
down  again  and  pulled  his  chair  closer  to  the 
fire.  He  never  entered  anybody's  house  with- 
out making  elaborate  preparations  to  stay  a 
long  while. 

"  Fact  is,"  he  continued,  "  it 's  so  long  since 
I  saw  you  that,  directly  I  heard  you  were  back, 
I  felt  I  must  come  round  and  look  you  up. 
It  was  young  Linton  who  told  me,  —  you  re- 
member Linton  ?  Ran  across  him  in  the  club, 
last  night ;  he  knows  some  friends  of  yours,  — 
Kerry,  or  Keeley,  or  some  such  name  as  that; 
just  been  calling  on  them,  apparently,  and  they 
told  him  you  had  travelled  back  with  them. 
Suppose  you  know  the  people  I  mean  ? " 

Paul  admitted  that  he  knew  the  people  he 
had  been  travelling  with,  and  Heaton  rattled 
on  afresh. 

"  We  were  talking  about  you  at  the  club, 
only  the  other  afternoon ;  coincidence,  was  n't 
it  ?  Two  or  three  of  us,  —  Marston,  and  Hal- 
lett,  and  old  Pryor.  You  remember  old  Pryor, 
don't  you  ?  Stock  Exchange,  and  swears  a  lot 
—  ah,  you  know ;  he  wanted  to  know  what 
had  become  of  you  and  your  damned  career ; 
it  was  a  damned  pity  for  the  most  brilliant 
man  at  the  bar,  and  the  only  one  with  a  con- 
218 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

science,  to  be  wasted  on  a  lot  of  damned  for- 
eigners, and  so  on.  You  know  old  Pryor. 
Of  course  I  agreed  with  him,  but  it  was  n't  my 
business  to  say  so." 

He  paused  a  little  wistfully,  as  though  he 
expected  Paul  to  say  something  to  explain  his 
long  absence  ;  but  the  latter  only  smiled  slightly, 
and  walked  across  to  his  cupboard  in  the 
corner. 

"  I  'm  going  to  have  some  tea,"  he  observed, 
"  but  I  don't  expect  you  to  join  me  in  that, 
Heaton.  There 's  some  vermuth  here,  Italian 
vermuth ;  or,  of  course,  you  can  have  whiskey 
if  you  prefer  it." 

"Thanks,  my  boy,"  laughed  the  other. 
"  I  'm  glad  to  see  that  five  months  in  the  in- 
fernal regions  have  n't  spoilt  your  memory. 
Claret  for  boys,  brandy  for  heroes,  eh  ? " 

He  helped  himself  to  whiskey,  and  then 
leaned  back  in  his  chair  to  survey  Paul,  who 
was  making  a  cigarette  while  the  water  boiled. 
There  was  one  of  the  long  silences  that  were 
inevitable  with  Paul,  unless  his  companion  took 
the  initiative ;  and  for  the  next  five  minutes 
the  only  sounds  to  be  heard  were  the  singing 
of  the  kettle,  the  rise  and  fall  of  footsteps  in 
the  court  below,  and  the  occasional  rattle  of 
the  window  sash  as  the  wind  wrestled  with  it. 
219 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

Paul  made  the  tea,  and  brought  his  cup  to  the 
table,  and  flung  himself  at  full  length  on  the 
sofa  beside  it. 

"  Well,"  he  said  at  last,  "  have  n't  you  any 
news  to  tell  me?  Who  is  the  last  charming 
lady  you  have  been  trotting  round  to  all  the 
picture  galleries,  —  the  one  who  is  more  beauti- 
ful, and  more  intellectual,  and  more  sympathetic 
than  any  woman  you  have  ever  met  ? " 

Heaton  laughed  consciously. 

"  Now,  it 's  odd  you  should  happen  to  say 
that,"  he  said  in  his  simple  manner.  "  Of 
course  I  know  it 's  only  your  chaff,  confound 
you,  but  there  is  just  a  smattering  of  truth  in 
it.  By  Jove,  Wilton,  you  must  come  and 
meet  her;  you  never  saw  such  a  figure,  and 
she 's  the  wittiest  creature  I  ever  ran  across  ! 
I  'm  nowhere,  when  it  comes  to  talk  ;  but  she  's 
so  kind  to  me,  Wilton,  —  you  can't  think  ;  I 
never  met  such  a  sympathetic  woman.  Really, 
she  has  the  most  extraordinary  effect  upon  me ; 
I  have  n't  been  so  influenced  by  any  woman 
since  poor  little  May  died,  'pon  my  word  I 
have  n't.  I  can't  think  how  it 's  all  going  to 
end,  I  tell  you  I  can't.  It 's  giving  me  a  lot 
of  worry,  I  know." 

"  Ah,"  said  Paul  gravely.     «  Widow  ?  " 

"Her  husband  was  a  brute,"  said  Heaton 
220 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

energetically.  "  Colonel  in  the  army,  drank, 
used  her  villainously  I  expect,  though  she 
does  n't  say  much ;  she 's  awfully  staunch  to 
the  chap.  Women  are,  you  know;  I  can't 
think  why,  when  we  treat  them  so  badly. 
That's  where  they  get  their  hold  over  us,  I 
suppose.  But  her  influence  over  me  is  won- 
derful. I  would  n't  do  anything  to  lose  her 
respect,  for  the  world." 

He  blinked  his  eyes,  and  drank  some  more 
whiskey.  Perhaps  it  occurred  to  him  that 
his  companion  was  even  less  responsive  than 
usual,  for  there  was  more  vigour  and  less 
sentiment  in  his  tone  when  he  resumed  the 
conversation. 

"  You  never  tell  me  anything  about  your- 
self," he  complained,  rather  pathetically.  "  You 
draw  me  out,  and  I  'm  ass  enough  to  be  drawn ; 
and  then  you  sit  and  smile  cynically,  while  I 
make  a  fool  of  myself.  How  about  your  ex- 
periences, eh  ?  'Pon  my  word,  I  don't  re- 
member a  single  instance  of  your  giving  me 
your  confidence  !  You  're  such  a  rum,  re- 
served sort  of  chap.  Well,  I  dare  say  you  're 
right  to  keep  it  all  to  yourself.  It  does  me 
good  to  tell  things  ;  but  then,  I  'm  different." 

"  My  dear  fellow,  I  've  nothing  to  tell," 
replied  Paul,  smiling.  "  You  forget  that  my 
221 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

life  is  not  full  of  the  charming  experiences  that 
seem  to  fall  so  continually  to  your  lot.  And 
your  conversation  is  so  much  more  interesting 
than  mine  would  be,  that  I  prefer  to  listen ; 
that 's  all.  I  'm  not  secretive  ;  I  have  merely 
nothing  to  secrete." 

"  That 's  all  very  well,  said  Heaton,  shak- 
ing his  head  ;  "  but  I  'm  older  than  you,  so  that 
won't  wash.  You  should  have  heard  what  those 
fellows  at  the  club  were  saying  about  you." 

"  Yes  ?  It  does  n't  interest  me  in  the  least," 
said  Paul  coldly.  But  tact  was  not  the  strong 
point  of  his  friend's  character,  and  he  went 
on,  notwithstanding. 

"  Of  course  I  did  n't  say  much,  —  it  is  n't  my 
way  ;  besides,  you  know  I  think  you  're  always 
right  in  the  main.  But  it 's  enough  to  make 
fellows  talk,  when  a  man  like  you,  who  always 
sets  his  career  before  his  pleasure,  goes  away 
out  of  the  vacation,  and  stays  away  all  these 
months.  You  must  own  it 's  reasonable  to 
speculate  a  little  ;  it 's  only  in  man's  nature." 

"  Some  men's,"  said  Paul,  as  coldly  as 
before.  "  I  should  never  dream  of  speculat- 
ing about  anybody's  course  of  action,  myself." 

"  No,  no,  of  course  not ;  I  quite  agree  with 
you,  quite,"  said  Heaton.  "  By  the  way,"  he 
added,  with  bland  innocence  in  his  expression, 
222 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"what  sort  of  people  are  these  Kerrys  you 
have  been  travelling  with  ?  An  old  married 
couple  of  sorts,  I  suppose  !  " 

Paul  raised  himself  on  his  elbow  and  drank 
his  tea  straight  off,  as  though  he  had  not  heard 
the  question.  He  was  always  divided,  in  his 
conversations  with  Heaton,  between  a  desire 
to  snub  him  and  a  fear  of  wounding  his  sen- 
sitiveness. 

"  You  have  n't  told  me  the  charming  widow's 
name,"  he  said,  dropping  back  into  his  former 
position.  The  other  man's  face  brightened, 
and  the  conversation  again  became  a  mono- 
logue until  even  Heaton's  prosiness  was  ex- 
hausted, and  silence  fell  upon  them  both. 
And  then,  very  characteristically,  as  soon  as 
he  was  quite  sure  he  was  not  expected  to  say 
anything,  Paul  suddenly  became  communica- 
tive. 

"  The  Keeleys  are  rather  nice  people,"  he 
observed,  taking  his  cigarette  out  of  his  mouth 
and  staring  fixedly  at  the  lighted  end  of  it. 
"  Mother  and  daughter,  you  know,  just  abroad 
for  the  winter.  Nice  little  place  in  Hereford- 
shire, I  believe,  but  they  come  to  town  for 
the  season,  —  Curzon  Street." 

Heaton  was  wise  enough  to  remain  silent ; 
and  Paul  went  on,  after  a  pause. 
223 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  Sat  next  to  them  at  table  d'hote,  and  that 
sort  of  thing.  One  is  always  glad  of  a  com- 
patriot abroad,  don't  you  know !  And  the 
mother  was  really  rather  nice,"  he  added,  as  an 
afterthought. 

"  And  what  was  the  daughter  like  ?  "  asked 
Heaton. 

"  Oh,  just  an  ordinary  amusing  sort  of  girl  ! 
She  's  pretty,  too,  in  a  sort  of  way,  but  I  don't 
admire  that  kind  of  thing  much,  myself.  And 
I  think  she  found  me  very  dull."  He  paused, 
and  looked  thoughtful.  "  I  must  take  you 
there  when  they  come  up  to  town,  Heaton. 
You  'd  get  on  with  them,  and  the  girl  is  just 
your  style,  I  fancy.  She  is  really  very  pretty," 
he  added,  becoming  thoughtful  again. 

"  Nothing  I  should  like  better  !  Delight- 
ful of  you  to  think  of  it!  "  exclaimed  Heaton, 
with  a  warmth  that  was  a  little  overdone.  His 
want  of  a  sense  of  proportion  was  always  an 
annoyance  to  Paul.  "  You  take  me  there, 
that 's  all,"  he  said,  chuckling ;  "  and  let  me 
have  my  head  —  " 

"  Which  is  precisely  what  you  would  n't 
have,"  said  Paul  drily.  "  And  I  'm  sure  I 
don't  know  why  you  want  to  know  them ; 
they  are  quite  ordinary  people,  and  don't 
possess  every  grace  and  virtue  and  talent, 
224 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

like  all  your  other  lady  friends.  However, 
I  shall  be  very  pleased  if  you  really  care 
about  it.  But  you  '11  be  disappointed." 

Heaton  agreed  to  be  disappointed,  and  as 
another  pause  seemed  imminent,  he  began  to 
think  about  taking  his  departure.  But  Paul 
did  not  notice  his  intention,  and  seized  the 
occasion  to  start  a  new  subject. 

"  Look  here,  Heaton,"  he  began,  so  sud- 
denly that  the  elder  man  sat  down  again  with 
precision ;  "  you  say  I  never  tell  you  any- 
thing about  my  experiences.  Does  that  mean 
that  you  really  think  I  have  anything  to  tell  ?  " 

Heaton  looked  at  him  dubiously. 

"  I  'm  hanged  if  I  know,"  he  said. 

Paul  smiled,  a  little  regretfully. 

"  After  years  of  renunciation,"  he  mur- 
mured, "  to  be  merely  accounted  a  riddle ! 
Then  you  think,"  he  continued,  with  an  inter- 
ested expression,  "  that  I  am  not  the  sort  of 
man  women  would  care  about,  eh  ?  Well,  I 
dare  say  you  're  right.  But  then,  why  do 
they  ever  care  for  any  of  us  ?  I  never  expect 
them  to,  personally." 

Heaton  was  looking  at  him  in  a  perplexed 
manner. 

"  Perhaps  I  did  n't  express  myself  quite 
clearly,"  he  hastened  to  say,  with  his  usual 
'5  225 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

wish  to  compromise.  "  I  only  meant  that  I 
sometimes  think  you  never  can  have  cared  for 
any  one  seriously.  But  I  've  no  doubt  I  'm 
wrong.  And  I  never  said  that  nobody  had 
ever  cared  for  you ;  I  think  that 's  extremely 
unlikely.  In  fact —  Do  you  really  want  me 
to  say  what  I  think  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  most  interesting,"  said  Paul, 
still  smiling. 

"Well,"  said  Heaton  decidedly,  "I  think 
you  're  the  sort  of  man  who  would  break  a 
woman's  heart  and  spare  her  reputation,  and 
perhaps  not  discover  that  she  liked  you  at  all. 
I  know  what  women  are,  and  they  just  love  to 
pine  away  for  a  man  like  you  who  would  never 
dream  of  giving  them  any  encouragement. 
And  you  have  such  a  fascinating  way  with  you 
that  you  just  lead  them  on,  without  meaning 
to  in  the  least.  You  can  curse,  if  you  like, 
Wilton ;  it 's  great  impertinence  on  my  part, 
eh  ? " 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  was  all  Paul  said.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  he  had  never  liked  him  better 
than  he  did  at  that  moment,  and  his  words  had 
set  him  thinking.  But  Heaton's  next  remark 
undid  the  good  impression  he  had  unwittingly 
made. 

"  The  fact  is,"  he  said,  "  a  woman's  reputa- 
226 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

tion  is  worth  only  half  as  much  to  her  as  her 
happiness." 

And  his  worldly  wisdom  jarred  on  Paul's 
nerves,  and  sounded  unnecessarily  coarse  to 
him  in  his  present  mood ;  and  he  did  not  try 
to  detain  him  again,  when  Heaton  rose  for  the 
second  time  to  take  his  leave.  When  he  had 
gone,  Paul  strolled  to  the  window-seat  and 
smoked  another  cigarette,  looking  down  into 
the  wind-swept  court.  And  his  thoughts  de- 
liberately turned  to  Katharine  Austen.  He 
had  not  seen  her  for  five  months,  he  had  not 
written  to  her  for  two,  and  her  last  letter  to 
him  was  dated  six  weeks  back.  It  had  not 
occurred  to  him,  until  he  drew  it  from  his 
pocket  now  and  looked  at  it,  that  it  was  really 
so  long  as  that  since  she  had  written  to  him  ; 
and  he  became  suddenly  possessed  of  a  wish  to 
know  what  those  six  weeks  had  held  for  her. 
Out  there  in  the  orange  groves  of  the  South, 
walking  by  the  side  of  the  beautiful  Marion 
Keeley,  with  the  rustle  of  her  skirts  so  close  to 
him  and  the  shallow  levity  of  her  conversation 
in  his  ears,  it  had  been  easy  to  forget  the  des- 
perately earnest  child  who  was  toiling  away  to 
earn  her  living  in  the  dullest  quarter  of  a  dull 
city.  But  here,  where  she  had  so  often  sat  and 
talked  to  him,  where  they  had  loved  to  quarrel 
227 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

and  to  make  it  up  again,  where  she  had  given 
him  rare  glimpses  of  her  quaint  self  and  then 
hastily  hidden  it  from  him  again,  where  she 
had  been  whimsical  and  serious  by  turns, 
where  he  had  sometimes  kissed  her  and  felt 
her  cheek  warm  at  his  touch,  —  here,  all  sorts  of 
memories  rushed  back  into  his  mind,  and  made 
him  wonder  why  he  had  yielded  so  easily  to 
the  persuasions  of  the  Keeleys,  and  remained 
so  long  away  from  England.  It  was  impos- 
sible to  name  Marion  Keeley  in  the  same 
breath  with  this  curiously  lovable  child  who 
had  held  him  in  her  sway  all  last  summer,  who 
had  never  used  an  art  to  draw  him  to  her,  and 
yet  had  succeeded,  by  force  of  qualities  that  she 
did  not  know  she  possessed,  in  gaining  his 
sincere  affection.  Yet  he  had  hardly  thought 
of  her  for  two  months,  and  she  had  not  written 
to  him  for  six  weeks.  What  had  she  been 
doing  in  those  six  weeks  ?  It  had  not  seemed 
to  matter,  when  he  walked  by  the  side  of 
Marion  Keeley,  how  Katharine  was  passing  her 
time  in  London  ;  but  now  that  Marion  was  no 
longer  near  him,  now  that  he  was  free  from  her 
fascination  and  the  necessity  of  replying  to  her 
banalities,  it  suddenly  became  of  the  first  im- 
portance to  him  to  know  what  had  happened 
to  Katharine  in  those  six  weeks.  He  had 
228 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

gone  away,  he  told  himself,  because  he  had 
taken  fright  at  the  situation,  because  he  could 
not  analyse  his  own  feelings  for  her,  because 
everything,  in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  was  hurry- 
ing them  on  to  marriage,  —  and  of  marriage  he 
had  the  profoundest  dread.  And  he  had  al- 
lowed himself  to  be  captivated  almost  imme- 
diately, by  the  ordinary  beauty  of  an  ordinary 
girl,  some  one  who  knew  how  to  play  upon  a 
certain  set  of  his  emotions  which  Katharine 
had  never  learnt  to  touch.  An  expression  of 
distaste  crossed  his  face  as  he  threw  away  his 
cigarette  only  half  smoked,  and  looked  down 
at  the  fountain  as  he  had  so  often  stood  and 
looked  with  her  in  the  hot  days  of  last  July. 
Heaton's  words  returned  to  his  mind  with  a 
new  significance  :  "  Their  reputation  is  worth 
only  half  as  much  to  them  as  their  happiness." 
He  remembered  how  he  had  parted  from 
Katharine  in  this  very  room,  before  he  went 
abroad;  and  how  he  had  congratulated  himself 
afterwards  on  having  refrained  from  kissing 
her.  But  he  had  a  sudden  recollection  now 
of  the  look  on  her  face  as  she  turned  away 
from  him  ;  and,  for  the  first  time,  he  thought 
he  understood  its  meaning. 

He  had  never  acted  on  an  impulse  in  his  life, 
before,  nor  yielded  to  a  wish  he  could  not  ana- 
229 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

lyse ;  but  this  afternoon  he  did  both.  It  was 
about  an  hour  later  that  Phyllis  Hyam  strolled 
into  Katharine's  cubicle  with  the  announcement 
that  a  gentleman  was  in  the  hall,  waiting  to 
speak  to  her. 

"  Bother !  "  grumbled  Katharine,  who  was 
correcting  exercises  on  the  bed.  "  He  never 
said  he  was  coming  to-night." 

"  It  is  n't  Mr.  Morton,"  volunteered  Phyllis, 
from  behind  her  own  curtain.  "  I  've  never  seen 
him  before.  He  's  tall,  and  thin,  and  serious 
looking,  with  a  leathery  sort  of  face,  and  a  dear 
little  fizzly  beard." 

She  made  a  few  more  gratuitous  remarks  on 
the  gentleman  in  the  hall,  until  she  began  to 
wonder  why  she  received  no  reply  to  them, 
and  then  made  the  discovery  that  the  occupant 
of  the  neighbouring  cubicle  was  no  longer 
there. 

Paul  was  already  regretting  his  impulse.  He 
had  never  been  inside  the  little  distempered 
hall  before,  and  it  struck  a  feeling  of  chill  into 
him.  A  good  many  girls  came  in  at  the  door 
while  he  was  waiting,  and  they  all  stared  at  him 
inquiringly,  and  most  of  them  were  dull  look- 
ing. He  remembered  the  sumptuous  house  in 
Mayfair  that  would  soon  contain  Marion  Kee- 
ley,  and  he  shuddered  a  little. 
230 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  I  don't  think  I  should  like  to  live  with 
working-women  much,"  he  said,  when  Katha- 
rine came  running  down  the  wooden  stairs. 

It  was  the  only  remark  that  came  easily  to 
him,  when  he  felt  the  warm  clasp  of  her  hand 
and  saw  the  glad  look  in  her  eyes. 


231 


CHAPTER   XIII 

SHE  was  looking  rather  tired,  he  thought, 
when  he  examined  her  more  critically ;  her 
eyes  seemed  larger,  and  her  expression  had 
grown  restless,  and  she  had  lost  some  of  the 
roundness  of  her  face.  But  she  had  gained  a 
good  deal  in  repose  of  manner ;  and  her  voice, 
when  she  answered  him,  was  more  under 
control  at  the  moment  than  his  own. 

"  I  should  n't  think  you  would,"  she  laughed. 
"  I  shocked  them  all  at  breakfast,  this  morn- 
ing, by  saying  I  should  like  to  try  idle  men 
for  a  change  !  " 

It  struck  him  that  she  would  not  have 
made  such  a  remark  when  he  left  her  last 
autumn ;  and  again  he  would  have  liked 
to  possess  a  chronicle  of  the  last  six  weeks. 
But  her  laugh  was  the  same  as  ever,  and  her 
hand  was  still  grasping  his  with  a  reassuring 
fervour. 

"  Come  back  with  me,"  he  said,   spontane- 
ously.     "  We   can't   talk   here,    can   we  ?      I 
232 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

dare  say  I  can  knock  up  some  sort  of  a  sup- 
per for  you,  if  you  don't  mind  a  very  primi- 
tive arrangement." 

"  It  will  be  beautiful,"  she  said ;  and  the 
throb  of  pleasure  in  her  voice  allayed  his  last 
feeling  of  suspicion. 

They  found  that,  after  all,  they  had  very 
little  to  say  to  one  another;  and  they  were 
both  glad  of  the  occupation  of  preparing  sup- 
per, when  they  arrived  at  the  Temple  and 
found  that  the  housekeeper  had  gone  out  for 
the  evening.  They  made  as  much  fun  as 
they  could  over  the  difficulties  of  procuring 
a  meal,  and  avoided  personal  topics  with  a 
scrupulous  care,  and  did  not  once  run  the  risk 
of  looking  each  other  in  the  face.  And 
afterwards,  when  they  had  made  themselves 
comfortable  in  two  chairs  near  the  lamp  and 
conversation  became  inevitable,  an  awkward 
embarrassment  seized  them  both. 

"  It 's  very  odd,"  said  Katharine,  frowning 
a  little  ;  "  but  I  have  been  bottling  up  things 
to  tell  you  for  weeks,  and  now  they  seem  to 
have  got  congested  in  my  brain  and  I  can't  get 
one  of  them  out.  Why  is  it,  I  wonder  ?  I 
can't  have  grown  suddenly  shy  of  you  ;  but 
we  seem  to  have  lost  touch,  somehow.  Oh, 
it 's  queer  ;  I  don't  like  it !  " 
233 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

She  gave  herself  a  little  shake.  Paul  laughed 
slightly. 

"  What  an  absurd  child  you  are  !  It  is  only 
because  we  have  not  been  together  lately,  and 
so  we  've  lost  the  trick  of  it.  You  are  always 
turning  yourself  inside  out,  and  then  sitting 
down  a  little  way  off  to  look  at  it." 

"  I  believe  I  do,"  owned  Katharine.  "  I 
always  want  to  know  why  certain  things  affect 
me  in  certain  ways." 

"  Did  you  want  to  know  why  you  were 
glad  to  see  me,  this  evening  ?  " 

She  looked  up  quickly  at  him  for  the  first 
time. 

"  No,"  she  said,  frankly.  "  At  least,  I  don't 
think  I  thought  about  it." 

"Good  child!"  he  said.  "Don't  think 
about  it."  And  she  wondered  why  he  looked 
so  pleased. 

"Why  not?"  she  asked  him.  "Please 
tell  me." 

"  Oh,  because  it  is  n't  good  for  you  to  be 
always  turning  yourself  inside  out;  certainly 
not  on  my  account.  Besides,  it  spoils  things. 
Don't  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  What  things  ? " 

"  Oh,  please !  I  'm  not  here  to  answer 
such  a  lot  of  puzzling  questions.  Who  has 
234 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

been  getting  you  into  such  bad  habits,  while 
I  have  been  away  ?  " 

"  Nobody  who  could  answer  any  of  my 
puzzling  questions,"  she  replied,  softly ;  and 
Paul  asked  hastily  if  she  would  make  the 
coffee.  He  had  fetched  her  here  as  an  ex- 
periment, a  kind  of  test  of  his  own  feelings 
and  of  hers ;  and  he  had  a  sudden  fear  lest 
it  should  succeed  too  effectually.  She  went 
obediently  and  did  as  she  was  told,  and 
brought  him  his  coffee  when  it  was  ready ; 
and  he  submitted  to  having  sugar  in  it,  since 
it  compelled  her  to  brush  his  hair  with  her 
sleeve  as  she  bent  over  him  with  the  sugar 
basin. 

"  Well  ? "  he  asked,  in  the  next  pause. 
She  was  balancing  her  spoon  on  the  edge  of 
her  cup,  with  a  curious  smile  on  her  face. 

"  Oh,  nothing  !  " 

"  Nothing  must  be  very  interesting,  then. 
But  I  don't  suppose  I  have  any  right  to  know. 
Have  I  ?  " 

The  spoon  dropped  on  the  floor  with  a 
clatter. 

"  Of  course  you  have  !     I  wish  you  would  n't 
say  those  things  !     They  hurt  so.     I  was  only 
thinking,  —  it    was  n't     anything     important, 
but — I'm  so  awfully  happy  to-night." 
235 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  But  that  is  surely  of  the  very  first  im- 
portance. Might  one  know  why  ?  Or  is 
that  some  one  else's  secret,  too  ? " 

She  disturbed  his  composure  by  suddenly 
pushing  her  coffee  away  from  her ;  and  there 
was  an  angry  light  in  her  eyes,  as  she  sprang 
to  her  feet  and  stood  looking  down  at  him. 

"  Sometimes  I  think  I  hate  you,"  she  said ; 
and  the  words  struck  him  as  being  strangely 
inadequate  to  the  occasion.  They  might 
have  been  spoken  by  a  petulant  child,  and 
the  moment  before  he  had  felt  that  she  was 
a  woman.  He  put  his  cup  down  too,  and 
went  towards  her. 

"  Does  sometimes  mean  now  ? "  he  asked 
jestingly.  He  was  trying,  impotently,  to  pre- 
vent her  from  going  any  farther.  But  she 
took  a  step  backward,  and  did  not  heed  his 
intention. 

"  Yes,  it  does,"  she  said,  angrily.  "  I  am 
tired  of  being  treated  like  a  child ;  I  am  tired 
of  letting  you  do  what  you  like  with  me. 
One  day  you  spoil  me ;  and  another,  you 
hurt  me  cruelly.  And  you  don't  care  a  little 
bit.  I  am  a  kind  of  amusement  to  you,  an 
interesting  puzzle,  a  toy  that  does  n't  seem  to 
break  easily;  that's  all.  And  I  just  let  you 
do  it,  —  it  is  my  own  fault ;  when  you  hurt  me 

236 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

I  hide  what  I  feel,  and  when  you  are  nice  to 
me  I  forget  everything  else.  Oh,  yes,  of 
course  I  am  a  fool ;  do  you  think  I  don't 
know  it  ?  You  have  only  to  touch  my  face, 
or  to  look  at  me,  or  to  smile,  and  you  know 
I  am  in  your  hands.  I  despise  myself  for  it ; 
I  would  give  all  I  know  to  be  strong  enough 
to  put  you  out  of  my  life.  But  I  can't  do  it, 
I  can't !  And  you  know  I  can't ;  you  know 
I  am  bound  up  in  you.  Everything  I  feel 
seems  to  be  yours ;  all  my  thoughts  seem  to 
belong  to  you,  directly  they  come  into  my 
head ;  I  can't  take  the  smallest  step  without 
wondering  what  you  will  think  of  it.  Oh,  I 
hate  myself  for  it ;  you  don't  know  how  I 
hate  myself!  But  I  can't  help  it." 

"  Stop,"  said  Paul,  putting  out  his  hand. 
But  she  waved  him  away,  and  went  on  talking 
rapidly. 

"  I  must  say  it  all  now ;  it  has  been  driv- 
ing me  mad  lately.  At  first,  it  seemed  so 
easy  to  get  on  without  you ;  but  it  grew 
much  harder  as  it  went  on,  and  when  you 
stopped  writing  to  me,  I  —  I  thought  I  should 
go  mad.  It  was  so  awful,  too,  when  I  had 
got  used  to  telling  you  things ;  there  was  no 
one  else  I  could  tell  things  to,  and  the  loneli- 
ness of  it  was  so  terrible !  I  wanted  to  kill 
237 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

myself,  those  days ;  but  I  was  too  big  a 
coward.  So  I  got  along  somehow ;  and  some 
days  it  was  easier  than  others,  but  it  was 
always  hard.  Only,  nobody  ever  guessed. 
Oh,  if  you  knew  how  I  have  learnt  to  deceive 
people  !  And  there  was  always  my  work  to 
get  through,  as  well;  it  has  been  horrible. 
And  I  could  no  more  help  it  than  I  could 
help  breathing.  I  wanted  to  kill  myself !  " 

"  Don't,"  half  whispered  Paul,  and  he  came 
a  little  nearer  to  her.  But  she  turned  and 
leaned  against  the  mantel-shelf  for  support,  and 
clasped  the  cold  marble  with  her  fingers. 

"  I  must  say  it,  Paul.  If  you  like,  I  will  go 
away  afterwards  and  never  see  you  again.  But 
I  cannot  let  it  spoil  my  life  any  longer ;  I  feel 
as  though  you  had  got  to  hear  it  now.  When 
I  wrote  you  that  last  letter,  I  said  that  if  you 
did  not  answer  it  I  would  not  write  to  you 
again,  or  think  about  you,  or  come  and  see 
you  any  more.  And  you  did  n't  answer  it.  I 
got  to  loathe  the  postman's  knock,  because  it 
made  my  face  hot,  and  I  was  afraid  people 
would  find  out.  But  they  never  did !  I  came 
down  to  breakfast  every  day,  in  the  hope  of 
finding  a  letter  from  you  ;  and  when  there 
was  n't  one,  and  everything  seemed  a  blank,  — 
oh,  don't  I  know  the  awful  look  of  that  dining- 
238 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

room  when  there  is  n't  a  letter  from  you  !  —  I 
just  had  to  pretend  that  I  had  n't  expected  to 
find  one  at  all."  She  paused  expectantly,  but 
this  time  Paul  made  no  attempt  to  speak.  "  I 
was  never  any  good  at  pretending,  before,"  she 
went  on  in  a  gentler  tone,  "  but  I  believe  I 
could  deceive  any  one  now.  Only,  I  never 
succeeded  in  cheating  myself!  I  used  to  find 
out  new  ways  to  school,  because  the  old  ones 
reminded  me  of  you  ;  and  I  had  to  do  all  my 
crying  in  omnibuses,  at  the  far  end  up  by  the 
horses,  because  I  dare  not  do  it  at  Queen's 
Crescent,  where  I  might  have  been  seen.  For 
I  did  cry  sometimes."  Her  voice  trembled, 
and  she  ended  with  a  little  sob.  She  buried 
her  face  in  her  hands. 

"  So  that  is  what  you  have  been  doing  for 
these  six  weeks  ?  "  said  Paul,  involuntarily. 

"  Do  you  find  it  so  amusing,  then  ?  "  asked 
Katharine  in  a  stifled  tone.  He  stepped  up 
behind  her,  and  twisted  her  round  gently  by 
the  shoulders,  so  that  she  was  obliged  to  look 
at  him.  The  hardness  went  from  her  face,  and 
she  held  out  her  hands  to  him  instinctively. 
"  Paul,"  she  said,  piteously,  "  I  could  n't  help 
it.  Are  n't  you  a  little  bit  sorry  for  me  ? 
What  have  I  done  that  I  should  like  the 
wrong  person  ?  Other  girls  don't  do  these 
239 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

things.  Am  I  awfully  wicked,  or  awfully  un- 
lucky ?  Paul,  say  something  to  me  !  Are  you 
very  angry  with  me  ?  But  I  could  n't  help  it, 
I  could  n't  indeed  !  I  have  tried  so  hard  to 
make  myself  different,  and  I  can't !  " 

He  bit  his  lip  and  tried  to  say  something, 
but  failed. 

"  And  after  all,"  she  added  in  a  low  tone, 
"  when  I  had  been  schooling  myself  to  hate 
you  for  six  weeks,  I  nearly  went  mad  with  joy 
when  Phyllis  came  and  told  me  you  were  in 
the  hall.  Oh,  Paul,  I  know  I  am  dreadfully 
foolish !  Will  you  ever  respect  me  again,  I 
wonder  ? " 

There  was  a  quaint  mixture  of  humour  and 
pathos  in  her  tone ;  and  he  gathered  her  into 
his  arms  and  kissed  her  tenderly,  without  rind- 
ing any  words  with  which  to  answer  her.  She 
clung  to  him,  and  kissed  him  for  the  first  time 
in  return,  and  forgot  that  she  had  once  thought 
it  wrong  to  be  caressed  by  him  ;  just  now,  it 
seemed  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world 
that  he  should  be  comforting  her  for  the  suffer- 
ing of  which  he  himself  was  the  cause.  And 
her  passionate  wish  to  rouse  him  from  his 
apathy  had  ended  in  a  weak  desire  to  regain 
his  tolerance  at  any  cost. 

"  You  are  not  angry  with  me  ?  I  have  n't 
240 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

made  you  angry  ? "  she  asked  him  in  an  anx- 
ious whisper. 

"  No,  no,  you  foolish  child !  "  was  all  he 
said  as  he  drew  her  closer. 

"  But  it  was  dreadful  of  me  to  say  all  those 
things  to  you,  was  n't  it  ?  " 

"  I  like  you  to  say  dreadful  things  to  me, 
dear." 

She  swayed  back  from  him  at  that,  with  her 
two  hands  on  his  shoulders. 

"  Do  you  mean  that,  really  ?  But  —  you 
must  think  it  dreadfully  wicked  of  me  to  let 
you  kiss  me,  and  to  come  and  see  you  like 
this  ?  It  is  dreadfully  wicked,  is  n't  it  ?  Oh,.  I 
know  it  is ;  everybody  would  say  so." 

"  I  can't  imagine  what  you  mean.  You  are 
a  dear  little  Puritan  to  me.  You  don't  know 
what  you  are  saying.  Come,  there  are  all  those 
things  you  have  got  to  tell  me.  I  want  to  hear 
everything,  please ;  whom  you  have  been  flirt- 
ing with,  and  all  sorts  of  things.  Now,  it  is  no 
use  your  pretending  that  you  are  going  to  hide 
anything  from  me,  because  you  know  you 
can't  !  " 

He  had  resumed    his  former   manner  with 

a  rather  conscious  effort,  and  drew  her  down 

beside   him   on  the  sofa.     She    tried    to   obey 

him,  but  she  could  think  of  very  little  to  say ; 

16  241 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

and  towards  ten  o'clock,  Paul  looked  at  his 
watch. 

"  My  child,  you  must  go,"  he  said.  Katha- 
rine rose  to  her  feet  with  a  sigh. 

"  I  don't  want  to  go,"  she  said,  reluctantly. 

"  Has  it  been  nice,  then  ?  "  he  asked,  smiling 
at  her  dejected  face. 

"  It  has  been  the  happiest  evening  I  have 
ever  spent,"  she  said,  looking  away  from  him. 

"  Surely  not !  "  laughed  Paul.  "  Think  of 
all  the  other  evenings  at  the  theatre,  with  Ted 
and  Monty  and  all  the  rest  of  them  !  " 

"  You  know  quite  well,"  she  said  indignantly, 
"  that  I  like  being  with  you  better  than  with 
any  one  else  in  the  world.  You  know  I  do, 
don't  you  ? "  she  repeated,  anxiously. 

"  It  is  enough  for  me  that  you  say  so," 
replied  Paul ;  and  they  stood  silent  for  a  mo- 
ment or  two.  "  Come,  you  really  must  go, 
child,"  he  said  again.  Katharine  still  remained 
motionless,  while  he  put  on  his  coat. 

"  Must  I  ?  "  she  said,  dreamily.  He  came 
back  to  her  and  gave  her  a  gentle  shake. 

"  What  is  it,  you  strange  little  person  ?  I 
believe  you  would  have  been  much  happier  if 
I  had  not  come  back  to  bother  you,  eh  ?  " 

She  denied  it  vehemently,  and  exerted  her- 
self to  talk  to  him  all  the  way  home  in  the 
242 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

cab.  She  was  solemn  again,  however,  when 
the  time  came  to  say  good-bye. 

"  May  I  see  you  again  soon  ?  "  she  asked 
him  wistfully. 

"  Why,  surely  !  We  are  going  to  have  lots 
of  larks  together,  are  n't  we  ?  Well,  what  is 
it  now  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  was  only  thinking  ! " 

"  What  about  ?  " 

She  unlocked  the  door  with  her  latch-key 
before  she  replied. 

"It  seems  so  odd,"  she  said,  "  that  I  care 
more  about  your  opinion  than  about  anybody 
else's  in  the  whole  world ;  and  yet  I  have  given 
you  the  most  reason  to  think  badly  of  me. 
Is  n't  it  awfully  queer  ?  " 

She  shut  the  door  before  he  had  time  to 
answer  her.  And  Paul  walked  home,  reflect- 
ing on  the  futility  of  experiments. 


243 


CHAPTER   XIV 

THE  Sunday  afternoon  on  which  the  Honour- 
able Mrs.  Keeley  gave  her  first  reception,  that 
season,  was  a  singularly  dull  and  sultry  one. 
The  room  was  filled  with  celebrities  and  their 
satellites ;  and  Katharine's  head  was  aching 
badly,  as  she  struggled  with  difficulty  through 
the  crowd  and  managed  to  squeeze  herself  into 
a  corner  by  the  open  window.  She  was  always 
affected  by  the  weather ;  and  to-day,  she  felt 
unusually  depressed  by  the  absence  of  sun- 
shine. A  voice  from  the  balcony  uttered  her 
name,  and  she  turned  round  with  a  sigh,  to 
be  met  by  the  complacent  features  of  Laurence 
Heaton.  For  a  moment  she  did  not  recog- 
nise him  ;  and  then,  the  sound  of  his  voice 
carried  her  back  to  Ivingdon,  and  she  smiled 
back  at  him  for  the  sake  of  the  associations 
he  brought  to  her  mind. 

"  Is  it  really  two   years  ? "  he   was    saying. 

"  Seems  impossible  when  I  look  at  your  face, 

Miss   Austen.     Two  years  !     And  what  have 

you  been  doing  with  yourself  all  this  time,  eh  ? 

244 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

And  how  do  you  contrive  to  look  so  fresh  on 
a  day  like  this  ?  I  am  quite  charmed  to  have 
this  opportunity  of  renewing  so  pleasant  an 
acquaintance." 

He  forgot  that,  when  he  had  known  her 
before,  she  had  annoyed  him  by  not  being 
in  his  style.  And  Katharine  answered  him 
vaguely,  while  her  eyes  wandered  over  the 
crowd  of  faces ;  for  Paul  had  told  her  he  was 
going  to  be  there,  and  she  felt  restless. 

"  Small  place  the  world  is,  to  be  sure,"  con- 
tinued Heaton,  with  the  air  of  a  man  who 
says  something  that  has  not  been  said  before. 
"  Who  would  have  expected  you  to  turn  up 
at  my  old  friends',  the  Keeleys'  ?  Most  curi- 
ous coincidence,  I  must  say  ! "  Katharine, 
who  knew  of  his  very  recent  introduction 
to  the  house,  explained  her  own  relationship 
demurely.  But  her  companion  was  quite  un- 
abashed, and  changed  the  conversation  skil- 
fully. 

"Wilton  often  comes  here,  he  tells  me. 
You  remember  Wilton,  don't  you  ?  Ah,  of 
course  you  do,  since  it  is  to  him  that  I  owe 
your  charming  acquaintance,"  he  said,  gal- 
lantly. "He  met  them  at  Nice,  or  some- 
where. Astonishing  how  many  people  one 
meets  at  Nice  !  Wilton  always  meets  every 
245 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

one,  though,  and  every  one  likes  him ;  he 's 
so  brilliant,  don't  you  think?  Yes,  brilliant 
exactly  describes  him.  Ever  seen  him  since 
he  stayed  in  your  delightful  rural  home  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  see  him  here  sometimes.  And  my 
aunt  is  expecting  him  to-day,  I  believe." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  of  it,  no  doubt  of  it 
whatever ! "  smiled  Heaton,  nodding  his  head 
wisely.  "If  I  'm  not  very  much  mistaken, 
Wilton  is  often  the  guest  of  Mrs.  Keeley, 
is  he  not  ?  " 

The  meaning  in  his  remarks  was  wasted  on 
Katharine,  for  most  of  her  attention  was  still 
concentrated  on  the  doorway.  But  Heaton, 
to  whom  she  was  more  of  an  excuse  than  a 
reason  for  conversation,  rambled  on  content- 
edly. 

"  Nice  fellow,  Wilton,  to  bring  me  here, 
pretending  he  wanted  me  to  know  her !  Not 
much  chance  of  that,  I  fancy  !  I  have  n't  had 
two  words  with  her  since  I  first  called  here 
with  him,  three  weeks  ago.  Ah,  well,  I 
must  n't  be  surprised  at  that,  —  an  old  fellow 
like  me ;  though  I  would  have  you  know, 
Miss  Austen,  that  I  am  still  young  enough  to 
admire  the  charms  of  a  beautiful  woman ! 
But  it  is  amusing,  all  the  same,  to  watch  how  a 
serious  fellow  like  Wilton  suddenly  forgets  all 
246 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

his  prejudices  against  marriage,  and  behaves 
like  every  one  else.  If  it  had  been  me,  now 
—  but  then,  I  'm  a  marrying  man,  and  I  've 
had  two  of  the  sweetest  wives  God  ever  gave 
to  erring  man —  Ah,  I  beg  your  pardon  ?  " 

"I  —  I  don't  quite  understand,"  said  Katha- 
rine. 

"  Nobody  does,  my  dear  young  lady ; 
nobody  does.  It  is  impossible  to  understand 
a  clever,  quiet  sort  of  chap  like  Wilton.  To 
begin  with,  he  does  n't  mean  you  to.  But 
I  'm  heartily  glad  he  has  made  such  a  fortu- 
nate choice ;  he  is  an  old  friend  of  mine,  and 
my  friends'  happiness  is  always  my  happiness. 
He  is  lucky,  for  all  that ;  beauty  and  money 
and  influence,  all  combined  in  one  charming 
person,  are  not  to  be  despised,  are  they  ?  She 
is  so  sweet,  too  ;  and  sweetness  in  a  woman  is 
worth  all  the  virtues  put  together,  don't  you 
agree  with  me  ?  Now,  tell  me,  —  woman's 

O  '  ' 

opinion  is  always  worth  having,  —  do  you 
consider  her  so  very  pretty  ? " 

"  I  don't  know  whom  you  mean,"  said 
Katharine.  She  was  wishing  he  would  take 
his  idle  chatter  away  to  some  one  else.  But 
Heaton  was  accustomed  to  inattention  on  the 
part  of  his  hearers,  and  he  was  not  discon- 
certed by  hers. 

247 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"Why,  the  beautiful  Miss  Keeley,  to  be 
sure,"  he  replied.  "  For  all  that,"  he  added, 
hastily,  "  I  think  she  is  rather  overrated,  don't 
you  ?  "  This  was  meant  to  be  very  cunning, 
for  he  prided  himself  on  being  an  accomplished 
lady's  man.  But  Katharine's  reply  baffled 
him. 

"  Do  you  mean  Marion  ?  I  think  she 
is  beautiful,"  she  said,  warmly.  "  I  am 
not  surprised  that  every  one  should  admire 
her." 

"  Just  so,  just  so ;  quite  my  view  of  the 
case ! "  exclaimed  Heaton,  at  once.  "  I  call 
her  unique,  don't  you  ?  'Pon  my  word,  I 
never  felt  more  pleased  at  anything  in  my 
life !  What  a  future  for  Wilton,  with  the 
Honourable  Mrs.  Keeley  for  a  mother-in-law, 
and  her  beautiful  daughter  for  a  wife ;  why, 
we  shall  see  him  in  Parliament  before  long  ! 

O 

The  Attorney-General  of  the  future,  —  there's 
no  doubt  about  it.  Ah,  I  see  you  are  smil- 
ing at  my  enthusiasm,  Miss  Austen.  That 
is  because  you  do  not  know  me  well  enough 
to  realise  how  much  my  friends  are  to  me. 
All  the  real  happiness  in  my  life  comes  from 
my  friends,  it  does  indeed.  But  I  am  boring 
you  with  this  dull  conversation  about  my- 
self. Come  along  with  me,  and  I  '11  see  where 
248 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

the  ices  are  to  be  found.  Young  people  always 
like  ices,  eh  ? 

And  she  yielded  to  his  kindly  good-nature, 
even  while  she  felt  indignant  with  him  for 
spreading  such  an  absurd  piece  of  gossip. 
And  what  had  Paul  been  doing,  to  allow  such 
an  idea  to  take  root  in  his  foolish  old  head? 
He  had  known  nothing  of  the  rumour  on 
Wednesday,  for  she  had  been  to  a  concert 
with  him  then,  and  he  had  never  once  alluded 
to  her  cousin.  Of  course,  it  was  ridiculous  to 
give  it  another  thought,  and  she  roused  her- 
self to  chatter  gaily  to  her  companion  as  they 
slowly  made  their  way  downstairs. 

But,  as  she  stood  in  the  crowded  dining- 
room,  wedged  between  the  table  and  Heaton 
who  was  occupied  for  the  moment  in  seeking 
for  champagne  cup,  she  became  again  the  un- 
willing hearer  of  that  same  absurd  piece  of  gos- 
sip. It  sounded  less  blatant,  perhaps,  from  the 
lips  of  the  two  magnificent  dowagers  who  were 
lightly  discussing  it,  but  it  was  hardly  less  vul- 
gar in  its  essence ;  and  Katharine  ceased  to  be 
gay,  and  shrank  instinctively  away  from  them. 

"  Who  is  he  ?     I  seem  to  know  the  name, 

but  I  never  remember  meeting  him  anywhere. 

Surely  her  mother  would  not  throw  her   away 

on  a  nobody  ?     She  expects  such  great  things 

249 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

from  Marion,  one  is  always  led  to  believe ; 
though  she  is  just  the  sort  of  girl  to  end  in 
being  a  disappointment,  don't  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  My  dear,  it  is  a.  fait  accompli,  and  he  is  not 
a  nobody  at  all.  He  would  not  visit  here  if  he 
were ;  at  least,  not  seriously.  His  name  is 
Wilton,  —  something  Wilton,  Peter  or  Paul  or 
one  of  the  apostles,  I  forget  which.  He  be- 
longs to  a  very  good  Yorkshire  family,  I  am 
told.  His  father  was  a  bishop,  or  it  may  have 
been  a  canon  ;  at  all  events,  he  was  not  an 
ordinary  person.  Mr.  Wilton,  this  one,  is  one 
of  our  rising  men,  I  believe,  —  a  lawyer,  or  a 
barrister,  or  something  of  that  sort.  He  de- 
fended the  plaintiff  in  the  Christopher  case, 
don't  you  remember  ?  And  with  Mrs.  Keeley 
to  back  him  up,  he  will  soon  be  in  the  front 
rank,  —  there  is  no  doubt  about  that.  They 
always  ice  the  coffee  too  much  here,  don't 
they  ?  Have  you  seen  Marion  to-day  ?  " 

"  Yes.  She 's  over  there  in  the  same  green 
silk.  Wonderful  hair,  is  n't  it  ?  A  little  too 
red  for  my  taste,  but  any  one  can  see  it  is  won- 
derful. He 's  over  there  too,  but  you  can't 
see  him  from  here.  He  is  much  older  than 
Marion,  and  delicate  looking.  I  should  n't 
like  a  child  of  mine  to  marry  him,  but  that's 
another  matter.  And,  of  course,  all  my  girls 
250 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

were  so  particular  about  looks.  How  insuf- 
ferably hot  it  is  !  Shall  we  go  upstairs  ?  " 

Laurence  Heaton  had  a  second  glass  of 
champagne  cup,  and  when  he  had  drunk  it  he 
found  that  Katharine  was  gone.  He  dismissed 
her  from  his  mind  without  any  difficulty,  how- 
ever, and  fought  his  way  upstairs  to  find  some 
one  who  was  more  to  his  taste.  He  certainly 
did  not  connect  her  disappearance  with  his  gos- 
sip, nor  yet  with  his  old  friend,  Paul  Wilton. 

And  Katharine  could  not  have  told  him  her- 
self why  she  had  slipped  away  so  abruptly. 
Of  course,  the  rumour  was  not  true ;  she  did 
not  believe  a  word  of  it ;  and  it  was  disloyal  to 
Paul  even  to  be  annoyed  by  it.  But  it  was 
disquieting,  all  the  same,  to  hear  his  name  so 
persistently  coupled  with  her  cousin's  ;  and  she 
wondered  if  her  aunt  knew  any  of  his  views 
against  marriage,  to  which  she  had  been  so 
often  a  humble  listener.  And  it  was  equally 
certain  that  he  was  one  of  the  most  rising  men 
of  the  day ;  she  did  not  want  to  be  told  that 
by  a  number  of  society  gossips,  who  had  never 
even  heard  of  him  until  he  paid  his  attentions 
to  one  of  their  set, — just  the  ordinary  atten- 
tions of  a  courteous  man  to  a  beautiful  woman. 
Had  he  not  repeatedly  told  her  that  she  knew 
more  about  his  real  life  and  his  real  self,  more 
251 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

about  his  ambition  and  his  work,  than  any  one 
else  in  the  world  ?  He  had  chosen  her  out  of  all 
his  friends  for  a  confidant ;  and  yet,  she  might 
not  even  acknowledge  her  friendship  for  him. 
He  only  trifled  with  Marion,  teased  her  about 
the  number  of  her  admirers,  talked  to  her 
about  the  colour  of  her  hair,  and  the  daintiness 
of  her  appearance ;  he  had  told  her  that,  too. 
Marion  knew  nothing  of  his  aspirations ;  she 
would  not  understand  them,  if  she  did.  And 
yet  it  was  common  talk  that  he  admired 
Marion,  while  she  was  to  make  a  secret  of  her 
intimacy  with  him.  Something  of  the  old  feel- 
ing of  rebellion  against  him,  which  had  been 
dead  ever  since  the  evening  they  had  supped 
together  in  his  chambers,  was  in  her  mind  as 
she  left  the  house  where  he  was  sitting  with 
Marion,  and  walked  aimlessly  towards  the 
park.  The  sun  had  completely  vanished  in  a 
dull  red  mist ;  and  the  intense  heat  and  lurid 
atmosphere  did  not  tend  to  raise  her  spirits. 
A  nameless  feeling  of  impending  trouble  crept 
over  her,  and  she  felt  powerless  to  shake  it  off. 
She  wandered  along  the  edge  of  the  crowds 
as  they  listened  to  the  labour  agitators,  past 
groups  of  children  playing  on  the  grass,  past 
endless  pairs  of  lovers  in  their  Sunday  gar- 
ments, until  the  noisy  tramp  of  footsteps  began 
252 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

to  grate  upon  her  nerves  ;  and  she  turned  and 
fled  from  the  park,  as  she  had  fled  from  Curzon 
Street.  Something  at  last  took  her  towards  the 
Temple,  and  an  hour  later  she  was  knocking 
furtively  at  the  door  of  Paul's  chambers.  She 
had  never  been  there  on  a  Sunday  before,  and 
the  deserted  look  of  the  courts,  and  the  silk 
dress  of  the  housekeeper  whom  she  met  on  the 
stairs,  depressed  her  still  further.  Would  she 
come  in  and  wait,  the  housekeeper  suggested, 
as  Mr.  Wilton  was  out,  and  had  not  said  when 
he  would  be  back  ?  But  Katharine  shook  her 
head  wearily,  and  turned  her  face  homewards. 
Even  the  solitude  of  Queen's  Crescent  could 
not  be  worse  than  the  unfriendliness  of  the 
deserted  London  streets.  She  went  out  of  her 
way  to  walk  down  Curzon  Street,  without 
knowing  why  she  did  so,  and  took  the  trouble 
to  cross  over  to  the  side  opposite  her  aunt's 
house,  also  without  a  definite  purpose  in  her 
mind.  It  was  not  much  after  eight,  but  the 
storm  was  still  gathering,  and  there  was  only 
just  enough  daylight  left  to  show  the  figure  of 
a  girl  on  the  balcony.  It  was  Marion,  beyond 
any  doubt  Marion,  who  was  leaning  forward 
and  looking  down  into  the  street  as  though 
she  expected  to  see  some  one  come  out  of  the 
house.  The  front  door  opened,  and  a  man 
253 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

came  down  the  steps ;  he  looked  up  and  raised 
his  hat,  and  lingered ;  and  Marion  glanced 
hastily  around,  kissed  her  fingers  to  him,  and 
vanished  indoors.  The  man  walked  away 
down  the  street  with  a  leisurely  step,  and 
Katharine  stepped  back  into  the  shadow  of 
the  portico.  But  her  caution  was  quite  un- 
necessary, for  neither  of  them  had  noticed 
her. 

For  the  second  time  that  evening  Katharine 
knocked  gently  at  the  door  of  Paul's  chambers 
in  the  Temple.  This  time,  he  opened  to  her 
himself. 

"  Good  heavens  !  "  he  was  startled  into  ex- 
claiming. "  What  in  the  name  of  wonder  has 
brought  you  here  at  this  time  of  night?  It  is 
to  be  hoped  you  did  n't  meet  any  one  on  the 
stairs,  did  you  ?  " 

He  motioned  her  in  as  he  spoke,  and  shut 
the  door.  Katharine  walked  past  him  in  a 
half-dazed  kind  of  way.  There  had  been  only 
two  feelings  expressed  in  his  face,  and  one  was 
surprise,  and  the  other  annoyance. 

"  What  is  it,  Katharine  ?  Has  anything 
gone  wrong?  "  he  demanded  in  his  low,  mas- 
terful tone.  Katharine  turned  cold ;  she  had 
never  realised  before  how  pitilessly  masterful 

his  tone  was. 

254 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  I  could  n't  help  coming,  —  I  was  so  mis- 
erable !  They  were  all  saying  things  about 
you,  things  that  were  not  true.  And  I  wanted 
to  hear  you  say  they  were  not  true.  I  could  n't 
rest ;  so  I  came.  Are  you  angry  with  me  for 
coming,  Paul  ?  " 

She  faltered  out  the  words,  without  look- 
ing at  him.  Paul  shrugged  his  shoulders,  but 
she  did  not  see  the  movement. 

"It  was  hardly  worth  while,  was  it, 
to  risk  your  reputation  merely  to  confirm 
what  you  had  already  settled  in  your  own 
mind  ?  " 

She  opened  her  eyes,  and  stared  at  him 
hopelessly.  Paul  walked  away  to  look  for 
some  cigarette  papers  in  the  pocket  of  a  coat. 

"  Was  it  ?  "  he  repeated,  with  his  back 
turned  to  her.  Katharine  struggled  to  answer 
him. 

"  You  have  never  spoken  to  me  like  that, 
before,"  she  stammered  at  last. 

"  You  have  never  given  me  any  cause,  have 
you  ? "  said  Paul,  rather  awkwardly. 

"  But  what  have  I  done  ? "  she  asked,  tak- 
ing a  step  towards  him.  "  I  did  n't  know  you 
would  mind.  I  always  come  to  you  when  I 
am  unhappy  ;  you  told  me  I  might.  And  I 
was  unhappy  this  evening  ;  so  I  came.  Why 
255 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

should  it  be  different  this  evening  ?  I  don't 
understand  what  you  mean.  Why  are  you 
angry  with  me  ?  You  have  never  been  angry 
before.  What  have  I  done  ?  " 

"  My  dear  child,  there  is  no  occasion  for 
heroics,"  said  Paul,  speaking  very  gently. 
"  I  am  not  angry  with  you  at  all.  But  you 
must  own  that  it  is  at  least  unusual  to  call 
upon  a  man,  uninvited,  at  this  unearthly  hour. 
And  had  n't  you  better  sit  down,  now  you 
have  come  ?  " 

Katharine  did  not  move. 

"  What  does  it  matter  if  it  is  unusual  ?  " 
she  asked.  "You  know  I  have  been  here 
sometimes,  as  late  as  this,  before.  There  is 
no  harm  in  it,  is  there  ?  Paul  !  tell  me  what 
I  have  done  to  annoy  you  ?  " 

Paul  gave  up  rummaging  in  his  coat  pocket, 
and  came  and  sat  on  the  edge  of  the  table, 
and  made  a  cigarette. 

"  I  seem  to  remember  having  this  same 
argument  with  you  before,"  he  observed. 
"  Don't  you  think  it  is  rather  futile  to  go 
all  through  it  again  ?  You  know  quite  well 
that  it  is  entirely  for  your  sake  that  I  wish 
to  be  careful.  Had  n't  we  better  change  the 
subject  ?  If  you  are  going  to  stop,  you  might 
be  more  comfortable  in  a  chair." 
256 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

Katharine  clenched  her  hands  in  the  effort 
to  keep  back  her  tears. 

"  I  am  not  going  to  stay,"  she  cried,  mis- 
erably. "I  can't  understand  why  you  are  so 
cruel  to  me ;  I  think  it  must  amuse  you  to 
hurt  me.  Why  do  you  ask  me  to  come  and 
see  you  sometimes,  quite  as  late  as  this,  and 
then  object  to  my  coming  to-night  ?  I  don't 
know  what  you  mean." 

Paul  lighted  his  cigarette  before  he  answered 
her. 

"You  have  quite  a  talent,  Katharine,,  for 
asking  uncomfortable  questions.  If  you  can- 
not see  the  difference  between  coming  when 
you  are  asked,  and  coming  uninvited,  I  am 
afraid  I  cannot  help  you.  Would  you  like 
any  coffee  or  anything  ?  " 

All  at  once  her  brain  began  to  clear.  For 
two  hours  she  had  been  wandering  aimlessly 
through  the  streets,  in  a  strange  bewilderment 
of  mind,  not  knowing  why  she  was  there  nor 
where  she  was  going.  Then  she  had  found 
herself  in  Fleet  Street;  and  habit,  rather  than 
intention,  had  brought  her  to  the  Temple. 
And  now  his  maddening  indifference  had 
touched  her  pride,  and  her  deadened  faculties 
began  slowly  to  revive  under  the  shock.  She 
put  her  fingers  over  her  eyes,  and  tried  to 
17  257 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

think.  The  blood  rushed  to  her  face,  and 
she  thrilled  all  over  with  a  passionate  instinct 
of  resistance.  He  did  not  know  what  to 
make  of  her,  when  she  stepped  suddenly  in 
front  of  him  and  faced  him  unflinchingly. 

"You  must  not  expect  me  to  see  the  dif- 
ference," she  said,  proudly.  "  I  shall  never 
understand  why  I  have  to  make  a  secret  of 
what  is  not  wrong,  nor  why  you  allow  me  to 
do  it  at  all  if  it  is  wrong.  I  think  you  have 
been  playing  with  my  friendship  all  the  time  ; 
I  can  see  now  that  you  have  not  valued  it, 
because  I  gave  it  you  so  freely.  But  I  did  n't 
know  that ;  I  was  n't  clever  enough  ;  and  I 
had  never  liked  anybody  but  you.  I  did  n't 
know  that  I  ought  to  hide  it,  and  pretend  that 
I  didn't  like  you.  Perhaps,  if  I  had  done 
that  you  would  have  gone  on  liking  me." 

He  was  going  to  interrupt  her,  but  she  did 
not  give  him  time. 

"  Would  you  ask  Marion  Keeley  to  come 
and  see  you,  as  you  have  asked  me  ? " 

Paul's  face  grew  dark,  and  she  trembled 
suddenly  at  her  own  boldness. 

"  I  fail  to  see  how  such  a  question  can  in- 
terest either  of  us,"  he  said,  coldly. 

"  But  would   you  ask  her  ? "  she  repeated. 

"  I  am  perfectly  assured,"  he  replied,  quietly, 
258 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  that  if  I  were  to  forget  myself  so  far  as  to  do 
so,  Miss  Keeley  would  certainly  not  come." 

"  Then  you  mean  to  say  that  it  has  always 
been  dreadfully  wrong  of  me  to  come  ?  " 

"  Really,  Katharine,  you  are  very  quarrel- 
some this  evening,"  said  Paul,  with  a  forced 
laugh.  "  I  have  repeatedly  pointed  out  to 
you  that  a  man  chooses  some  of  his  friends 
for  pleasure,  and  others  for  business.  I  really 
fail  to  see  why  I  should  be  subjected  to  this 
minute  catechism  at  your  hands." 

"  Then  you  chose  Marion  —  for  business  ? 
It  is  true,  then,  what  they  said  !  I  wish  —  oh,  I 
wish  you  had  never  chosen  me  —  for  pleasure  !  " 

The  anger  had  died  out  of  her  voice  ;  he 
could  hardly  hear  what  she  said ;  but  he  made 
a  last  attempt  to  treat  the  matter  lightly. 

"  I  really  think,  my  child,  that  any  com- 
parison between  you  and  your  cousin  is  un- 
necessary," he  began  in  a  conciliating  manner. 

"  I  thought  so  too,  until  to-day,"  she  replied, 
piteously. 

"  But  what  has  happened  to-day  to  put 
you  in  this  uncomfortable  frame  of  mind  ?  " 

"  It  is  what  every  one  is  saying  about  you 

and  Marion,  —  all  those  horrid  people,  and  Mr. 

Heaton,   and  everybody.     I  want  to  know  if 

it  is  true.     Everything  is  going  wrong,  every- 

259 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

where.  I  wish  I  were  dead  !  I  came  to  ask 
you  if  it  is  true ;  I  thought  I  might  do  that ; 
I  thought  I  knew  you  well  enough.  I  did  n't 
know  you  would  mind.  If  you  like,  I  will 
go  away  now,  and  never  come  and  see  you 
any  more,  or  bother  you,  or  let  you  know 
that  I  care  for  you  so  awfully.  Only,  tell 
me  first,  Paul,  whether  it  is  true  or  not  ? " 

Her  voice  had  risen,  as  she  went  on,  and 
it  ended  full  of  passionate  entreaty.  The 
stern  look  on  his  face  deepened,  but  he  did 
not  speak. 

"  I  wish  I  knew  the  meaning  of  it  all,"  she 
continued,  relentlessly  as  it  seemed  to  him.  "  I 
wish  it  were  easier  to  like  the  right  people, 
and  to  hate  all  the  others.  Why  was  I  made 
the  wrong  way  ?  If  I  had  never  wanted  to  like 
you,  it  would  have  been  so  simple.  It  would 
not  have  mattered,  then,  that  you  did  not 
really  care  for  me.  But  I  wish  I  understood 
you  better.  Why  did  you  tell  me  that  you 
wanted  me  for  your  friend,  always  ;  and  that 
you  did  n't  believe  in  marriage,  and  those 
things  ?  I  believed  you  so,  Paul ;  and  I  was 
content  to  be  your  friend  ;  you  know  I  was, 
don't  you  ?  And  now  you  have  met  Marion, 
and  she  is  beautiful,  and  she  can  help  you  to 
get  on,  to  become  one  of  the  first  men  in  the 
260 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

country,  they  said.  And  you  have  forgotten 
all  about  your  views  against  marriage ;  and 
you  allow  people  to  talk  as  though  you  were 
making  a  kind  of  bargain.  Oh,  it  is  horrible  ! 
But  it  is  n't  true,  Paul,  is  it  ? " 

"  Who  has  been  telling  you  all  these 
things  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Then  it  is  true  ?  You  are  going  to  marry 
her,  because  of  the  position,  and  all  that  ?  I 
wish  it  was  n't  so  difficult  to  understand.  Is 
it  a  crime,  I  wonder,  to  like  any  one  so  des- 
perately as  I  like  you  ?  But  I  can't  help  it, 
can  I  ?  Oh,  Paul,  do  tell  me  what  to  do  ? " 

He  winced  as  she  turned  to  him  so  natu- 
rally for  protection,  even  though  it  was  against 
himself  that  she  asked  it. 

"  Don't  talk  like  that,  child,"  he  said, 
harshly.  And  the  hand  she  had  held  out  to 
him  appealingly  fell  down  limply  at  her  side. 

"  I  can't  expect  you  to  think  anything  of 
me,  after  what  I  have  just  said  to  you,"  she 
went  on  in  the  same  hopeless  voice.  "  Girls 
are  never  supposed  to  tell  those  things,  are 
they  ?  It  does  n't  seem  to  me  to  matter  much, 
now  that  it  has  all  got  to  stop,  for  always. 
I  only  wish  —  I  wish  it  had  stopped  before. 
I  —  I  am  going  now,  Paul." 

Although  she  turned  away  from  him,  she 
261 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

still  half  expected  him  to  come  and  comfort 
her.  For  a  couple  of  seconds  she  stood  quite 
still,  possessed  with  a  terrible  longing  to  be 
comforted  by  him.  But  he  sat  motionless  and 
silent  on  the  table  ;  even  his  foot  had  ceased 
swinging.  She  walked  unsteadily  to  the  door. 

"  Stop,"  said  Paul.  "  You  cannot  go  out  in 
this  storm." 

A  peal  of  thunder  broke  over  the  house  as 
he  spoke.  She  had  not  noticed  the  rain  until 
then. 

"  I  must  go,"  she  said  dully,  and  fumbled  at 
the  fastening  of  the  door.  Paul  came  and  took 
her  by  the  arm,  and  led  her  back  gently. 

"  I  want  to  explain,  first,"  he  said. 

"  There  is  nothing  to  explain,"  said  Katha- 
rine. "  I  understand." 

"  Not  quite,  I  think,"  said  Paul.  They  were 
standing  together  by  the  table,  and  he  was 
nervously  caressing  the  hand  he  held  between 
his  own.  "You  have  only  been  talking  from 
your  own  point  of  view ;  you  have  forgotten 
mine  altogether.  You  do  not  seem  to  think 
that  I,  too,  may  have  had  something  to  suffer." 

"  You  ?     But  you  do  not  care  —  as  I  do." 

He  did  not  heed  the  interruption. 

"  It  is  the  system  that  is  at  fault,"  he  said. 
"  A  man  has  to  get  on  at  the  sacrifice  of  his 

262 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

happiness ;  or  he  has  to  be  happy  at  the 
sacrifice  of  his  position.  It  is  difficult  for 
a  woman  to  realise  this.  She  never  has  to 
choose  between  love  and  ambition." 

"  And  you  have  chosen  —  ambition,"  said 
Katharine  bitterly. 

"  My  child,  when  you  are  older  you  will 
understand  that  the  very  qualities  you  affect  to 
despise  in  man  now,  are  the  qualities  that  en- 
dear him  to  you  in  reality.  You  are  far  too 
fine  a  woman,  Katharine,  to  love  a  man  who 
has  no  ambition.  Is  it  not  so  ?  " 

She  quivered,  and  lowered  her  eyes. 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  said.  "  It  seems  so 
hard." 

"  It  is  terribly  hard  for  both  of  us,"  con- 
tinued Paul,  looking  down  too.  "  But  believe 
me,  there  would  be  nothing  but  unhappiness  be- 
fore us  if  it  were  otherwise.  I  am  thinking 
of  you,  child,  as  much  as  of  myself.  Marriage 
for  love  alone  is  a  ghastly  mistake.  There,  I 
have  said  more  to  you  than  I  have  ever  said 
to  any  woman  ;  I  felt  you  would  understand, 
Katharine." 

He  mistook  her  silence  for  indifference,  and 
put  his  arms  round  her.     But  she  clung  to  him 
closely,  and  lifted  her  face  to  his  and  broke  out 
into  a  desperate  appeal. 
263 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  Paul,  don't  say  those  horrid,  bitter  things  ! 
They  are  not  true ;  I  will  never  believe  they  are 
true.  Why  must  you  marry  for  anything  so 
sordid  as  ambition  ?  Why  must  you  marry  at 
all  ?  Can't  we  go  on  being  friends  ?  I  want 
to  go  on  being  your  friend.  Paul,  don't  send 
me  away  for  ever.  I  can't  go,  Paul ;  I  can't !  I 
will  work  for  you,  I  will  be  your  slave,  I  will 
do  anything ;  only  don't  let  it  all  stop  like 
this.  I  can't  bear  it ;  I  can't !  Won't  you  go 
on  being  nice  to  me,  Paul  ? " 

He  threw  back  his  head  and  compressed  his 
lips.  He  had  grown  quite  white  in  the  last  few 
moments.  She  sobbed  out  her  entreaties  with 
her  face  hidden  on  his  shoulder,  and  wondered 
why  he  did  not  speak  to  her. 

"Why  did  you  never  look  like  that  be- 
fore ? "  he  asked  in  a  hoarse  whisper.  She 
raised  her  head  and  stared  at  him  with  large, 
frightened  eyes. 

"  Like  what,  Paul  ?    What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

He  flung  her  away  from  him  almost  roughly. 

"You  must  go,"  he  said,  "at  once." 

She  laid  her  hand  on  his  arm,  and  looked 
into  his  face. 

"  Why  are  you  so  angry  ? "  she  asked,  won- 
deringly.  "Is  it  because  I  have  told  you  all 
these  things  ? " 

264 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

"  My  God,  no  !  You  must  go,"  he  repeated, 
vehemently,  and  pushed  her  towards  the  door. 
She  stumbled  as  she  went,  and  he  thought  he 
heard  her  sob.  He  sprang  to  her  side  in- 
stantly, and  took  her  in  his  arms  again. 

"  Why  did  n't  you  go  quickly  ?  "  he  gasped, 
as  he  crushed  her  against  him. 

His  sudden  change  of  manner  terrified  her. 
None  of  the  tenderness  or  the  indifference,  or 
any  of  the  expressions  she  was  accustomed  to 
see  on  his  face  were  there  now,  and  his  vio- 
lence repelled  her.  She  struggled  to  free  her- 
self from  his  grasp. 

"  Let  me  go,  Paul !  "  she  pleaded.  "  I  don't 
want  to  stop  any  more.  What  is  the  good  of 
it  all  ?  You  know  I  have  got  to  go ;  don't 
make  it  so  difficult.  Paul,  I  —  I  want  to  go." 

He  looked  searchingly  into  her  eyes,  as 
though  he  would  have  read  her  inmost 
thoughts ;  but  he  did  not  see  the  understand- 
ing he  had  almost  hoped  to  find  there,  and 
he  laughed  shortly  and  relinquished  his  hold 
of  her. 

"  There,  go  !  "  he  said  in  an  uncertain  tone. 
"  Why  did  I  expect  you  to  know  ?  Your  day 
has  n't  come  yet.  Meanwhile  —  Ah  !  what 
am  I  saying  ?  " 

"  I  have  annoyed  you  again,"  said  Katha- 
265 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

rine  sorrowfully.  "  What  ought  I  to  have 
known  ? " 

"  Oh,  nothing,"  said  Paul,  flinging  open  the 
door.  "  You  can't  help  it.  Now  and  again 
Nature  makes  woman  a  prig,  and  it  is  only  the 
right  man  who  can  regenerate  her.  Unfortu- 
nately, circumstances  prevent  me  from  being 
the  right  man.  Are  you  ready  to  come,  now  ?  " 

He  spoke  rapidly,  hardly  knowing  what  he 
said.  But  Katharine  walked  past  him  without 
speaking,  with  a  set  look  on  her  face.  He 
talked  mechanically  about  the  storm  and  any- 
thing else  that  occurred  to  him,  as  they  went 
downstairs,  but  she  did  not  utter  a  word,  and 
he  did  not  seem  to  notice  her  silence.  She  held 
out  her  hand  to  him  as  they  stood  in  the  door- 
way. 

"  You  will  let  me  see  you  to  a  cab  ?  "  he  said. 
"  Oh,  very  well,  as  you  like  ;  but,  at  least,  take 
an  umbrella  with  you." 

She  shook  her  head  mutely,  and  plunged 
out  into  the  rain  and  the  storm.  It  was  on 
just  such  a  night  as  this,  more  than  two  years 
ago,  that  she  had  first  gone  out  to  meet  him. 
Paul  called  after  her  to  come  back  and  take 
shelter ;  and  some  one,  who  was  walking 
swiftly  by,  turned  round  at  the  sound  of  his 
voice.  The  dim  lamp  above  shed  its  uncer- 
266 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

tain  light  for  a  moment  on  the  faces  of  the 
three,  whom  circumstances  had  thus  strangely 
brought  together  in  the  fury  of  that  June 
thunder-storm.  It  was  only  for  a  moment.  Paul 
drew  back  again  into  the  doorway,  and  Katha- 
rine stumbled  blindly  against  the  man  outside. 

"  Ted ! "  she  cried,  with  a  sob  of  relief. 
"  Take  me  home,  Ted,  will  you  ?  Something 
terrible  has  happened  to  me  ;  I  can't  tell  you 
now.  Oh,  I  am  so  glad  it  is  you ! " 

She  clung  to  his  arm  convulsively.  Some 
clock  in  the  neighbourhood  was  striking  the 
hour,  and  it  struck  twelve  times  before  Ted 
spoke. 

"  Kitty  !  "  he  said. 

She  waited,  but  not  another  word  came. 
Exhaustion  prevented  her  from  resisting,  as 
he  led  her  to  a  hansom,  and  paid  the  driver, 
and  left  her.  Then  she  remembered  dimly 
that  he  had  not  spoken  to  her,  except  for  that 
one  startled  exclamation. 

It  seemed  to  Katharine  as  though  nothing 
could  be  wanting  to  complete  her  wretched- 
ness. 


267 


CHAPTER  XV 

BUT,  humiliated  as  she  was,  the  predominant 
feeling  in  her  mind  was  astonishment.  Could 
it  be  true  that  she  was  a  prig  ?  Was  that  the 
final  definition  of  the  pride  and  the  strength 
in  which  she  had  gloried  until  now  ?  Was 
that  all  that  people  meant  when  they  told 
her  she  was  not  like  other  girls  ?  It  was  an 
odious  revelation,  and  for  the  moment  her  self- 
respect  was  stunned  by  it.  She  had  boasted 
of  her  success  ;  and  to  be  successful  was  merely 
to  be  priggish.  She  had  been  proud  of  her 
virtue  ;  and  virtue,  again,  was  only  an  equiv- 
alent for  priggishness.  She  wondered  vaguely 
whether  there  was  a  single  aspiration  left  that 
did  not  lead  to  the  paths  of  priggishness.  A 
prig  !  He  had  called  her  a  prig !  She  had 
thought  it  such  a  fine  thing  to  be  content  with 
his  friendship,  and  this  was  the  end  of  it  all. 
All  the  wretchedness  of  her  solitary  drive 
home  was  centred  in  those  last  cruel  words  of 
his ;  all  the  bitterness  of  that  long,  miserable 
Sunday  was  concentrated  in  that  covert  insult. 
268 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

She  could  have  borne  his  indifference,  or  even 
his  displeasure  ;  but  she  could  have  killed  him 
for  his  contempt. 

And  Ted  ?  She  did  not  give  a  thought  to 
Ted.  Even  the  reason  for  his  curious  be- 
haviour had  not  fully  dawned  upon  her  yet. 
It  had  only  seemed  in  keeping  with  the  rest 
of  her  misfortunes,  just  like  the  rain,  which 
she  allowed  to  beat  in  upon  her,  with  a  kind 
of  reckless  satisfaction.  In  the  fulness  of  her 
more  absorbing  personal  trouble,  Ted  would 
have  to  wait.  It  had  been  her  experience 
that  Ted  always  could  wait.  It  was  not  until 
she  stood  once  more  within  the  familiar  hall 
of  number  ten,  Queen's  Crescent,  that  the 
recollection  of  Ted's  astonished  look  returned 
to  her  mind ;  and  then  she  put  it  hastily  away 
from  her,  as  something  that  would  have  to  be 
faced  presently. 

As  she  walked  into  her  room,  too  weary  to 
think  any  more,  and  longing  for  the  tempo- 
rary oblivion  of  a  night's  rest,  the  first  thing 
that  met  her  eye  was  the  unmade  condition 
of  her  bed.  The  desolate  look  of  the  tiny 
compartment  was  the  crowning  point  of  her 
day  of  woe ;  and  the  tears,  which  she  had  kept 
back  until  now,  rushed  to  her  eyes.  It  seemed 
a  little  hard  that,  on  this  day  of  all  others, 
269 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

Phyllis  should  have  neglected  to  make  her 
bed.  She  gave  it  an  impatient  push,  and  it 
scraped  loudly  over  the  bare  boards. 

"  Stop  that  row ! "  said  Polly's  sharp  voice 
from  the  other  end  of  the  room.  "  You  might 
be  quiet,  now  you  have  come  in." 

"  Is  Phyllis  asleep?  "  asked  Katharine  shortly. 

"  Can't  you  be  quiet  ? "  growled  Polly. 
"  Have  n't  you  heard  she  is  worse  ?  Don't 
see  how  you  should,  though,  —  coming  in  at 
this  hour  of  the  night !  " 

"Worse?"  With  an  effort,  Katharine's 
thoughts  travelled  back  over  the  absorbing 
events  of  the  day,  to  the  early  morning ;  and 
she  remembered  that  Phyllis  had  stayed  in 
bed  with  a  headache.  "  What  is  the  matter 
with  her  ? "  she  asked,  faintly.  Everything 
seemed  to  be  conspiring  against  her  happiness 
to-day. 

"  Influenza.  A  lot  you  care !  Nothing 
but  my  cousin's  funeral  would  have  taken  me 
out  to-day,  I  know.  I  had  to  show  up  for 
that.  Of  course,  I  thought  you  would  look 
after  her ;  I  asked  you  to." 

Katharine  had  pushed  aside  the  curtain,  and 

was  looking  at  the  flushed,  unconscious  face  of 

her   friend.       She   dimly    remembered   saying 

she  would  stop  with    her ;  and   then    a  letter 

270 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

had  come  from  Paul,  asking  her  to  meet  him 
in  the  park,  and  she  had  thought  no  more 
of  Phyllis.  She  had  not  even  succeeded  in 
meeting  him  ;  and  again  her  eyes  filled  with 
tears  at  her  own  misfortunes. 

"  I  could  n't  help  it,"  she  said,  miserably. 
"  How  was  I  to  know  she  was  so  bad  ?  Have 
you  taken  her  temperature  ?  " 

"  Hundred  and  three,  when  I  last  took  it. 
It 's  no  use  standing  there  and  pulling  a  long 
face.  She  does  n't  know  you  ;  so  it 's  rather 
late  in  the  day  to  be  cut  up.  You  'd  better 
go  to  bed,  I  should  say ;  you  look  as  though 
you  'd  been  out  all  day,  and  half  the  night, 
too  ! " 

She  ended  with  a  contemptuous  sniff.  Katha- 
rine rubbed  the  tears  out  of  her  eyes.  The 
weariness  had  temporarily  left  her. 

"  Let  me  sit  up  with  her,"  she  said. 

"You?  What  could  you  do?  Why, 
you  'd  fall  asleep,  or  think  of  something  else 
in  the  middle,  and  she  might  die  for  all  you 
cared,"  returned  Polly  contemptuously.  "  Can 
you  make  a  poultice  ? 

Katharine  shook  her  head  dumbly,  and 
crept  away.  Her  self-abasement  seemed  com- 
plete. She  lay  down  on  her  untidy  bed,  and 
drew  the  clothes  over  her,  and  gave  way  to 
271 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

her  grief.  There  did  not  seem  a  bright  spot 
in  her  existence,  now  that  Phyllis  was  not  able 
to  comfort  her.  She  hoped,  with  a  desperate 
fervour,  that  she  would  catch  influenza  too, 
and  die,  so  that  remorse  should  consume  the 
hearts  of  all  those  who  had  so  cruelly  misun- 
derstood her. 

A  hand  shook  her  by  the  shoulder,  not 
unkindly. 

"  Look  here  !  you  must  stop  that  row,  or  else 
you  will  disturb  her.  What 's  the  good  of  it  ? 
Besides,  she  is  n't  as  bad  as  all  that  either ;  you 
can't  have  seen  much  illness,  I  'm  thinking." 

"  It  is  n't  that,"  gasped  Katharine  truth- 
fully. "  At  least,  not  entirely.  I  was  dread- 
fully unhappy  about  something  else,  and  I 
wanted  to  die ;  and  then,  when  I  found  Phyllis 
was  ill,  it  all  seemed  so  hopeless.  I  did  n't 
mean  to  disturb  any  one ;  it  was  dreadfully 
foolish  of  me  ;  I  have  n't  cried  for  years." 

Polly  gave  a  kind  of  grunt,  and  sat  down 
on  the  bed.  It  was  more  or  less  interesting 
to  have  reduced  the  brilliant  Miss  Austen  to 
this  state  of  submission. 

"  Got  yourself  into  trouble  ?  "  she  asked, 
and  refrained  from  adding  that  she  had  ex- 
pected it  all  along. 

Katharine  began  to  cry  again.  There  was 
272 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

so  little  sympathy,  and  so  much  curiosity,  in 
the  curt  question.  But  she  had  reached  the 
point  when  to  confide  in  some  one  was  an  ab- 
solute necessity  ;  and  there  was  no  one  else. 

"  I  have  n't  done  anything  wrong,"  she 
sobbed.  "  Why  should  one  suffer  so  awfully, 
just  because  one  did  n't  know !  We  were 
only  friends,  and  it  was  so  pleasant,  and  I 
was  so  happy !  It  might  have  gone  on  for 
ever,  only  there  was  another  girl." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Polly.  "  There  always 
is.  How  did  she  get  hold  of  him?" 

Katharine  shrank  back  into  herself. 

"  You  don't  understand,"  she  complained. 
"  He  is  n't  like  that  at  all.  He  is  clever,  and 
refined,  and  very  reserved.  He  does  n't  flirt 
a  bit,  or  anything  of  that  sort." 

"  Oh,  I  see,"  said  Polly,  with  her  expres- 
sive sniff.  "I  suppose  the  other  girl  thought 
herself  a  toff,  eh  ?  " 

"  She  is  the  most  beautiful  girl  I  have  ever 
seen,"  said  Katharine  simply.  "  But  I  never 
knew  he  cared  about  that.  He  had  views 
against  marriage,  he  always  said  ;  and  he  was  n't 
always  talking  about  women,  like  some  men. 
I  did  not  think  he  would  end  in  marrying, 
just  like  every  one  else." 

"  More  innocent  you,  then  !  I  always  said 
18  273 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

you  ought  to  have  stopped  at  home ;  girls 
like  you  generally  do  come  the  worst  cropper. 
You  surely  did  n't  suppose  he  would  go  on 
for  ever,  and  be  content  merely  with  your 
friendship,  did  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  did,"  said  Katharine  wearily.  "  Why 
not  ?  I  was  content  with  his." 

Polly  gave  vent  to  a  stifled  laugh. 

"  My  dear,  you  're  not  a  man,"  she  said  in  a 
superior  tone.  It  added  considerably  to  the 
piquancy  of  the  conversation  that  the  subject 
was  one  on  which  she  was  a  greater  authority 
than  her  clever  companion. 

"  But  he  really  cared  for  me,  I  am  certain  he 
did,"  Katharine  went  on  plaintively ;  and  her 
eyes  filled  with  tears  again. 

"  Then  why  is  he  marrying  the  other  girl 
instead  of  you  ?  If  she  is  so  beautiful,  you  're 
surely  very  good-looking  too,  eh  ?  That  won't 
wash  anyhow,  will  it  ?  " 

Katharine  was  silent.  She  felt  she  could 
not  reveal  the  full  extent  of  his  infamy  just 
then  ;  there  was  something  so  particularly  sor- 
did in  having  been  weighed  against  the  advan- 
tages of  a  worldly  marriage  and  found  wanting ; 
and  she  felt  a  sudden  disinclination  to  expose 
the  whole  of  the  truth  to  the  sharp  criticism 
of  Polly  Newland. 

274 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  I  have  n't  done  anything  wrong,"  she  said 
again.  "  I  don't  understand  why  things  are  so 
unfairly  arranged.  Why  should  I  suffer  for  it 
like  this?" 

"  Don't  know  about  that,"  retorted  the  un- 
compromising Polly.  "  I  expect  you  've  been 
foolish,  and  that's  a  worse  game  than  being 
bad.  Going  about  town  with  a  man  after  dark, 
when  you  're  not  engaged  to  him,  is  nrt  con- 
sidered respectable  by  most,  even  if  it 's  always 
the  same  man.  I  'm  not  so  particular  as  some, 
but  you  must  draw  the  line  somewhere." 

"  I  did  n't  go  about  with  him  much,"  said 
Katharine,  making  a  feeble  attempt  to  justify 
herself.  "He  didn't  care  about  it;  he  was 
always  so  particular  not  to  give  people  any- 
thing to  talk  about.  He  did  n't  care  for  him- 
self, he  said  ;  it  was  only  for  me.  So  I  used 
to  go  to  his  chambers  instead.  I  could  n't 
be  more  careful  than  that,  could  I  ?  And  I 
should  have  gone  in  the  daytime,  if  I  had  had 
more  time ;  but  there  was  all  my  work  to  get 
through,  —  so  what  else  could  I  do  ?  There 
was  n't  any  harm  in  it." 

She  could  not  see  her  companion's  face,  and 
was  so  full  of  her  own  reflections  that  she 
failed  to  notice  her  silence.  Polly  did  not  even 
sniff. 

275 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

"  Then  there  's  Ted,"  Katharine  continued 
presently.  "  Even  Ted  was  strange  to-night ; 
and  Ted  has  never  been  like  that  to  me  before. 
I  can't  think  what  has  come  over  everybody. 
What  have  I  done  to  deserve  it  all  ?  " 

"  Mercy  me  !  "  cried  Polly  suddenly.  "  Is 
there  another  of  them  ?  Who  on  earth  is 
Ted?" 

"  Ted  ?  Why,  you  must  have  seen  him  in 
the  hall  sometimes ;  he  often  comes  to  take  me 
out.  I  have  known  him  all  my  life  ;  he  is  only 
a  little  older  than  I  am,  and  I  am  devoted  to 
him.  I  would  not  quarrel  with  Ted  for  any- 
thing in  the  whole  world ;  it  would  be  like 
quarrelling  with  myself.  And  to-night  I  ran 
into  him,  just  as  I  came  out  of —  of  the  other 
one's  chambers  ;  and  I  was  so  glad  to  see  him, 
because  Ted  is  always  so  sweet  to  me  when  I 
am  in  trouble ;  and  —  and  Ted  was  quite  funny, 
and  he  would  n't  speak  to  me  at  all,  and  he  just 
put  me  into  a  hansom  and  left  me  to  come 
home  alone.  I  can't  think  why  he  behaved  so 
oddly.  I  know  he  used  not  to  get  on  with  — 
with  the  other  one,  and  that  is  why  I  never 
told  him  I  had  met  him  again  up  here  in  Lon- 
don ;  and  I  suppose  he  caught  sight  of  him  to- 
night in  the  doorway,  —  there  was  a  lamp  just 
above,  —  but  still,  he  need  not  have  been  hurt 
276 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

until  he  had  heard  my  explanation,  need   he  ? 

Why    has    every   one    turned    against    me   at 

?u 

«x^w   . 

Polly  remained  silent  no  longer.  She  turned 
and  stared  at  the  prostrate  figure  on  the  bed, 
with  all  the  power  of  her  small,  watery  blue 
eyes. 

"  I  really  think  you  beat  everything  I  ever 
knew,"  she  exclaimed. 

"  What  ?  "  said  Katharine,  who  had  turned 
her  face  to  the  wall,  and  was  occupied  in  medi- 
tating miserably  on  the  problem  of  her  exist- 
ence. "  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

Polly  lost  all  control  over  herself. 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  you  never 
saw  any  harm  in  all  this  ?  "  she  cried  emphati- 
cally. "  Do  you  really  mean  to  say  that  you 
have  been  carrying  on  anyhow  with  two  men  at 
once,  going  to  their  chambers  late  at  night,  and 
letting  yourself  be  seen  in  public  with  them, 
without  knowing  that  it  was  unusual  ?  Did  n't 
you  ever  see  the  danger  in  it  ?  You  are  either 
the  biggest  fool  in  creation  or  the  biggest 
humbug !  One  man  at  a  time  would  be  bad 
enough  ;  but  two  !  My  eye  !  " 

"  But  —  there  was  n't  any  harm,"  pleaded 
Katharine.  "  Why  does  no  one  understand  ? 
It  seemed  quite  natural  to  me.  They  were  so 
277 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

different,  and  I  liked  them  in  such  opposite 
ways,  don't  you  see  ?  I  have  known  Ted  all 
my  life ;  he  is  a  dear  boy,  and  that  is  all.  But 
Paul  is  clever  and  strong ;  he  is  a  man,  and 
he  knows  about  things.  And  I  never  knew 
it  was  wrong ;  I  did  n't  feel  wicked,  somehow. 
I  wonder  if  that  was  what  Paul  was  thinking, 
when  he  said  I  was  a  prig  ?  Oh,  dear !  oh, 
dear !  I  have  never  been  so  wretched  in  my 
whole  life !  " 

"  Did  he  say  that  about  you  ?  Well,  I 
don't  wonder." 

Katharine  looked  hopelessly  at  her  unsym- 
pathetic profile,  with  the  snub  nose  and  the 
small  chin,  and  the  hair  twisted  up  into  tight 
plaits  and  the  ends  tied  with  white  tape ;  and 
her  eyes  wandered  down  the  red  flannel  dress- 
ing-gown to  the  large  slippered  feet  that 
emerged  from  beneath  it. 

"  You  called  me  a  prig,  too,"  she  said,  humbly. 
"  J  overheard  you." 

"  I  thought  so  then,"  said  Polly  gruffly. 

"  Do  you  think  so  now  ?  Is  it  true  ?  Am 
I  a  prig  ?  "  She  awaited  the  answer  anxiously. 
Polly  gave  her  another  pitiless  stare. 

"  I  'm  bothered  if  I  know,"  she  said.  "  But 
if  you  're  not,  you  ought  to  be  in  the  nursery. 
Only  don't  go  telling  people  the  things  you  've 
278 


The   Making   of  a  Prig 

been  telling  me  to-night,  or  you  might  get 
yourself  into  worse  trouble.  You  'd  better  go 
to  sleep  now,  and  leave  it  till  to-morrow.  My 
conscience  !  you  'd  make  some  people  sit  up, 
you  would !  " 

Katharine  felt  she  had  endured  as  much  con- 
tempt as  she  could  bear  that  evening ;  but 
she  made  a  last  attempt  to  recover  some  of  her 
self-respect. 

"  I  wish  you  would  tell  me  why  it  is  wrong 
to  do  things  that  are  not  really  wrong  in 
themselves,  just  because  people  say  they  are 
wrong  ?  "  she  asked,  rather  sleepily. 

"  Because  people  can  make  it  so  jolly  un- 
pleasant for  you  if  you  don't  agree  with  them," 
said  Polly  bluntly.  "  And  if  you  fancy  you  're 
going  to  alter  all  that,  you  must  make  up  your 
mind  to  be  called  a  prig.  You  can't  have  a 
good  time  and  defy  convention  as  you  Ve 
been  doing,  and  then  expect  to  get  off  scot  free 
without  being  called  a  prig ;  it  is  n't  likely. 
Most  people  are  content  to  take  things  as  they 
are  ;  it 's  a  jolly  sight  more  comfortable,  and  it 's 
good  enough  for  them.  Good-night." 

"  I  sha'n't  sleep,"  Katharine  called  after  her. 
And  Polly  sniffed. 

And  the  next  thing  that  Katharine  remem- 
bered was  being  awakened  by  her  in  the  early 
279 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

morning,  and  told  in  a  gruff  voice  that  she 
might  sit  with  Phyllis  if  she  liked,  until  some 
one  came  to  relieve  her. 

"  All  right,"  she  replied,  drowsily.  "  How 
tired  you  look ;  did  n't  you  sleep  well  ?  " 

"  Sleep  ?  There  was  n't  much  chance  of 
that,  when  she  was  talking  gibberish  all  the 
time.  She 's  quieter  now,  and  you  can  fetch 
Jenny  if  you  want  anything.  I  must  be  off;  I 
shall  be  late  as  it  is.  Just  like  my  luck  to  get 
my  early  week  when  she  is  ill  ! " 

And  there  by  the  bedside  of  Phyllis  Hyam, 
before  any  one  else  in  the  house  was  astir, 
Katharine  sat  and  pondered  again  over  the 
events  of  the  day  before.  They  seemed  just 
as  tragic  as  ever,  separated  as  they  were  from. 
her  by  a  few  hours  of  forgetfulness ;  and  she 
wondered  miserably  how  she  was  going  to  take 
up  her  life  as  usual,  and  go  about  her  work  as 
though  nothing  had  happened.  "  That  is  why 
it  is  so  hard  to  be  a  woman,"  she  murmured, 
full  of  pity  for  her  own  troubles.  And  yet, 
when  Miss  Jennings  came  and  took  her  post 
in  the  sick-room,  and  she  was  free  to  go  to 
school,  she  found  that  it  was  a  relief  to  be 
compelled  to  do  something,  and  her  work 
seemed  easier  to  her  than  she  had  ever  found 
it  before.  She  had  never  given  a  better  lecture 
280 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

than  she  gave  that  morning ;  and  something 
that  was  outside  herself  seemed  to  come  to  her 
assistance  all  day,  and  remained  with  her  until 
her  work  was  done.  But  when  she  returned 
home  in  the  evening,  the  full  significance  of 
her  unfortunate  situation  stared  her  again  in 
the  face ;  and  the  news  that  Phyllis  was  worse 
and  was  not  allowed  to  see  any  one  was  so  in 
keeping  with  her  feelings,  that  she  felt  unable 
even  to  make  a  comment  upon  it. 

"  I  always  said  that  Miss  Austen  had  n't  a 
spark  of  feeling  in  her,"  observed  the  girl  who 
had  given  her  the  information  ;  and  Katharine 
overheard  her,  and  began  to  wonder  mechani- 
cally if  it  were  true.  Every  faculty  she 
possessed  seemed  deadened  at  that  moment ; 
she  had  no  longer  the  inclination  even  to  rebel 
against  her  fate.  She  sat  on  the  stairs,  outside 
the  bedroom  she  was  not  allowed  to  enter,  and 
took  a  strange  delicious  pleasure  in  dwelling 
upon  the  whole  of  her  intercourse  with  Paul. 
There  was  not  a  conversation  or  a  chance 
meeting  with  him,  that  she  did  not  go  through 
in  her  mind  with  a  scrupulous  accuracy ;  the 
pain  of  it  became  almost  unendurable  at  mo- 
ments, and  yet  it  was  an  exquisite  torture  that 
brought  her  some  measure  of  relief.  She  even 
forced  herself  to  recall  her  last  meeting  with 
281 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

him,  and  was  surprised  in  an  apathetic  sort  of 
way  when  she  found  that  she  did  not  want  to 
cry  any  more. 

And  from  thinking  of  Paul,  she  naturally 
fell  to  thinking  of  Ted  too.  And  it  slowly 
dawned  upon  her,  as  she  considered  it  in  the 
light  of  her  present  mood,  that  what  Polly  had 
said  in  her  vulgar,  uncompromising  manner, 
was  the  truth.  For  a  whole  year  she  had  been 
living  in  a  false  atmosphere  of  contentment ; 
she  had  deluded  herself  into  the  belief  that  she 
was  superior  to  convention  and  human  nature 
combined,  and  she  had  ended  in  proving  her- 
self a  complete  failure.  Paul  had  seen  through 
her  self-righteousness,  he  had  nothing  but  con- 
tempt for  her,  and  he  had  found  it  a  relief  to 
turn  from  her  to  the  human  and  faulty  Marion 
Keeley.  In  the  depths  of  her  self-abasement, 
she  had  even  ceased  to  feel  angry  with  Marion. 

And  Ted  had  found  her  out.  That  was  the 
worst  of  all.  On  the  impulse  of  the  moment, 
she  fetched  some  paper  and  wrote  to  him  at 
once,  sitting  there  on  the  uncarpeted  stairs, 
while  the  people  passed  up  and  down  un- 
heeded by  her.  It  was  a  very  humble  letter, 
full  of  pleading  confession  and  self-accusation,  — 
such  a  letter  as  she  had  never  sent  him  before, 
and  written  from  a  standpoint  she  had  never 
282 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

yet  been  obliged  to  assume  towards  him.  It 
was  a  relief  at  the  moment  to  be  doing  some- 
thing ;  but  she  regretted  her  action  the  whole 
of  the  following  day,  and  hardly  knew  how  to 
open  his  reply  when  she  found  it  awaiting  her, 
on  her  return  home  in  the  evening.  It  was 
very  short. 

"Dear  Kitty,"  it  ran:  — 

Don't  mind  about  me.  It 's  a  rotten  world,  and 
I  'm  the  rottenest  fool  in  it.  I  was  only  hit  up  the 
other  night  because  I  was  so  surprised.  Of  course 
you  're  all  right,  and  I  ought  never  to  have  been  born. 
I  knew  all  the  time  that  you  were  spoofing  me  when 
you  pretended  to  care  for  me  ;  but  I  did  n't  know  you 
cared  for  any  one  else,  least  of  all  Wilton.  He  always 
seemed  so  played  to  me,  but  then  I  'm  not  clever. 
Only,  I  advise  you  not  to  go  hanging  round  his  cham- 
bers at  night ;  people  are  so  poor,  and  they  might  talk. 
Let  me  know  if  you  want  me  or  anything.  I  won't 
bother  you  otherwise. 

TED. 

He  still  believed  in  her,  then ;  only  it  was 
more  from  habit  than  conviction.  But  she 
had  destroyed  his  love  for  her.  She  realised 
these  two  facts  in  the  same  breath,  and  she 
rebelled  passionately  at  the  loss  of  the  affec- 
tion that  had  been  hers  for  so  long,  though 
she  had  valued  it  so  lightly. 
283 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  I  do  want  you,  now,"  she  scribbled  to  him 
in  pencil.  "  Will  you  come  here  to-morrow 
evening  ?  Miss  Jennings  has  promised  me 
the  use  of  her  sitting-room.  I  shall  expect 
you  about  seven." 

It  seemed  quite  in  harmony  with  the  gen- 
eral wretchedness  of  those  few  days  that  Phyl- 
lis should  be  seriously  ill  all  the  time.  The 
sixty-three  working  gentlewomen,  who  had 
never  pretended  to  care  for  the  brusque  short- 
hand clerk  when  she  was  in  good  health  and 
trampled  without  a  scruple  on  their  tenderest 
susceptibilities,  now  went  about  on  tiptoe,  and 
conversed  in  whispers  on  all  the  landings,  and 
got  in  the  way  of  the  doctor  when  he  came 
downstairs.  And  they  one  and  all  condemned 
Katharine  for  her  indifference,  because  she  re- 
fused to  enlarge  on  the  subject  at  every  meal. 

"  The  conversation  is  never  very  exhilarat- 
ing, at  the  best  of  times  ;  but  when  all  those 
women  take  to  gloating  over  a  tragedy,  it 
simply  is  n't  bearable,"  she  was  heard  to 
exclaim ;  and  the  unlucky  remark  cost  her 
the  last  shred  of  her  popularity  at  Queen's 
Crescent. 

She  was  waiting  at  her  usual  post  on  the 
stairs,  when  they  came  to  tell  her  that  Ted 
was  downstairs.  He  had  come  at  her  bidding  ; 
284 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

that  was  consoling,  at  all  events.  But  when 
she  walked  into  Miss  Jennings'  private  room 
and  saw  his  face  as  he  stood  on  the  hearthrug, 
her  heart  sank  again,  and  she  knew  that  she 
was  not  to  find  consolation  yet.  He  held 
out  his  hand  to  her  silently,  and  pulled  for- 
ward a  slender,  white-wood  chair  tied  up  with 
yellow  ribbons,  and  imperilled  a  bamboo  screen 
crowded  with  cheap  crockery,  and  finally  sat 
down  himself  on  the  edge  of  the  chintz-cov- 
ered sofa.  Neither  of  them  spoke  for  a 
moment  or  two,  and  Ted  cleared  his  throat 
uncomfortably,  and  stared  at  the  ferrule  of  his 
walking-stick. 

"  I  got  your  letter,"  he  said  at  last,  "  and 
I  've  come." 

"  Yes,"  said  Katharine,  "  you  Ve  come." 

Having  delivered  themselves  of  these  two 
very  obvious  remarks,  they  again  relapsed 
into  silence ;  and  Katharine  glanced  at  the 
cuckoo  clock,  and  marvelled  that  so  much 
concentrated  wretchedness  could  be  crowded 
into  something  under  five  minutes. 

"  Ted,"  she  forced  herself  to  say,  in  a  voice 
that  did  not  seem  to  be  hers,  "  Ted,  will  you 
never  come  and  see  me  any  more  ? " 

He  lifted  his  head  and  looked  at  her ;  then 
looked  away  again. 

285 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  Not  unless  you  want  me  to  do  anything 
for  you,"  he  said.  "  I  don't  want  to  bother, 
you  see." 

She  longed  to  cry  out  and  tell  him  that  he 
never  bothered  her;  that  she  wanted  to  see 
him  more  than  she  wanted  anything  in  the 
whole  world.  But  something  new  and  strange 
in  his  face,  that  told  her  he  was  no  longer  a 
boy  and  no  longer  her  willing  slave,  seemed 
to  paralyse  her.  To  be  proved  inferior  to 
the  man  she  had  always  considered  inferior 
to  her,  was  the  hardest  blow  she  had  yet  had  to 
endure. 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  she  said, 
lamely. 

Ted  hastened  to  be  apologetic. 

"  I  'm  beastly  sorry,"  he  said,  and  cleared 
his  throat  again. 

"I  —  I  wish  you  would  explain,"  she 
went  on. 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,  isn't  it?"  said  Ted 
vaguely. 

"  It  is  n't  all  right;  you  know  it  is  n't,"  she 
cried.  "  What  makes  you  so  strange  to  me  ? 
You  've  never  looked  like  that  before.  Is  it 
I  who  have  changed  you  so,  Ted  ?  " 

"  Oh,  it 's  nothing,"  he  said.  "  You  've 
hit  me  up  rather,  that's  all.  Don't  bother 
286 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

about  me.  Did  you  want  me  for  anything 
particular  ?  " 

She  looked  in  vain  for  any  signs  of  relent- 
ing in  his  manner ;  but  he  sat  on  the  edge 
of  the  sofa,  and  played  with  his  walking-stick, 
and  cleared  his  throat  at  intervals.  In  spite 
of  the  changed  conditions  of  their  attitude 
towards  one  another,  she  felt  that  she  was  ex- 
pected, as  usual,  to  take  the  initiative. 

"  I  wanted  to  tell  you  all  about  it,  to  ex- 
plain," she  faltered.  "  I  thought  you  would 
help  me." 

"If  it's  all  the  same  to  you,  I  would  rather 
not  hear,"  said  Ted,  with  unexpected  prompt- 
itude. "I-  know  as  much  about  it  as  I  care 
to  know,  thanks.  He  wrote  to  me  this  morn- 
ing, too." 

"  He  wrote  to  you  ?     Paul  ?  " 

"  Wilton,  yes,"  he  replied,  shortly,  and 
glanced  at  her  again.  His  under  lip  was 
twitching,  as  it  always  did  when  he  was  hurt 
or  embarrassed. 

"  What  for  ?  "  she  asked,  wonderingly. 

"  Oh,  to  explain,  and  all  that !  Hang  the 
explanation  !  I  did  n't  want  him  to  tell  me 
he  had  n't  been  a  blackguard  ;  I  knew  you,  — 
so  that  was  all  square.  But  I  don't  under- 
stand it  now,  and  I  don't  want  to.  I  can't 
287 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

see  any  great  shakes,  myself,  in  playing  about 
with  a  girl  when  you  're  engaged  to  some 
one  else.  But  I  suppose  that 's  because  I  'm 
such  a  rotten  ass.  It 's  none  of  my  busi- 
ness, any  way ;  only,  I  think  you  'd  better 
be  careful.  But  you  know  best,  so  that 's  all 
right.- 

Again  she  longed  to  tell  him  that  she  was 
not  so  bad  as  he  thought  her,  and  yet,  much 
worse  than  he  thought  her ;  but  the  words 
would  not  come,  and  she  sat  self-condemned. 

"You  don't  understand,"  she  stammered 
presently.  "  I  did  n't  know  he  was  engaged 
till  yesterday.  I  saw  no  harm  in  it  all ; 
I  only  liked  him  very  much,  as  a  friend.  I 
liked  you  in  quite  a  different  way,  I  — " 

"You  didn't  know  he  was  engaged?"  said 
Ted,  rousing  himself  suddenly.  "  Do  you 
mean  to  say  he  has  been  playing  fast  and 
loose  with  you,  the  blackguard?  If  I  had 
thought  that  —  " 

"  No,  no  ! "  she  cried,  in  alarm  at  the  fierce- 
ness of  his  expression.  "  He  never  treated 
me  badly ;  he  made  everything  quite  clear 
from  the  beginning.  It  was  my  fault  if  I 
misunderstood  him.  But  I  never  did  ;  I  always 
knew  we  were  just  friends,  and  it  was  pleasant, 
and  I  let  it  go  on.  Have  n't  you  and  I  been 
288 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

friends,  too,  Ted?  There  was  no  harm  in 
that,  was  there  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,"  he  said,  bitterly.  "  There  was 
no  fear  of  any  harm  in  it ! " 

She  realised  his  meaning,  and  blushed  pain- 
fully as  she  felt  that  he  had  spoken  the  truth. 

"  Ted,  do  you  hate  me,  I  wonder  ? "  she 
murmured. 

"What?  Oh,  that's  all  right.  Don't 
bother  about  me.  I  was  a  rotten  ass  ever  to 
expect  anything  else." 

"  But,  I  mean,  because  —  because  of  the 
other  ?  "  she  went  on  anxiously. 

Ted  bit  his  lip,  but  did  not  speak. 

"  Do  you  think  it  was  wrong  of  me  ?  "  she 
pleaded.  "  Ted,  tell  me  !  I  did  n't  know ; 
I  did  n't  really.  It  seemed  quite  right  to  me ; 
I  could  n't  see  that  it  mattered,  just  because 
of  what  people  said.  Would  you  think  it 
wrong  of  a  girl  to  come  and  see  you,  if  she 
liked  coming,  and  did  n't  care  what  people 
said?" 

Ted  rose  from  his  seat  hurriedly,  and 
picked  up  his  hat. 

"  I  never  said  you  were  wrong,  did  I  ? "  he 

said,  gently.     "  You    see,  you  're    clever,  and 

I  'm  not,  and  it 's  altogether  different.     I  was 

only  sorry,  that  was  all ;    I   did  n't  think  you 

19  289 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

went  in  for  that  sort  of  thing,  and  I  was  hit  up, 
rather.  But  it  was  my  fault  entirely ;  and 
of  course  you  're  right,  —  you  always  are.  I 
sha'n't  bother  you  any  more,  now  I  know." 

"  Ted,  don't  go,"  she  said,  imploringly,  as 
he  touched  her  hand  again  and  turned  towards 
the  door.  "  Don't  you  understand,  Ted,  that 
—  that  he  only  appealed  to  half  of  me,  and  — 
I  do  care,  Ted,  and  I  want  you  to  come  and 
see  me  again  ;  I  do  really,  Ted,  I  —  " 

But  he  only  smiled  as  incredulously  as 
before,  and  spoke  again  in  the  same  gentle 
tone. 

"Thanks,  awfully.  But  don't  bother  to 
spoof  yourself  about  me  ;  I  shall  be  all  right, 
really.  It  was  always  my  fault ;  I  won't 
bother  you  any  more.  Good-bye." 

And,  haunted  by  his  changed  manner  and 
his  joyless  smile,  she  went  back  to  her  seat 
on  the  stairs,  and  sat  with  her  hands  clasped 
over  her  knees  and  her  eyes  staring  vacantly 
into  space,  as  she  tried  in  vain  to  discover 
what  her  real  feelings  were.  "  Perhaps  I 
have  n't  got  any,"  she  thought  to  herself. 
"  Perhaps  I  am  incapable  of  loving  any  one, 
or  of  feeling  anything.  And  I  have  sent  away 
the  best  fellow  in  the  whole  world,  and  it 
does  n't  seem  to  matter  a  bit.  I  wonder  if 
290 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

anything  could  make  me  cry  now  ? "  And 
she  took  a  gloomy  pleasure  in  conjuring  up 
all  the  incidents  of  the  last  unhappy  week,  and 
laughed  cynically  when  she  found  that  none 
of  them  had  any  effect  upon  her. 

"  Why  don't  they  light  the  gas  ? "  com- 
plained the  working  gentlewomen,  when  they 
came  downstairs  to  supper.  And  when  Katha- 
rine explained  that  she  had  promised  to  light 
it  herself  and  had  forgotten  to  do  so,  they 
passed  on  their  way,  marvelling  that  any  one 
with  so  little  feeling  should  have  her  moments 
of  abstraction  like  every  one  else.  After  they 
had  all  gone  down,  she  had  a  restless  fit,  and 
paced  up  and  down  the  landing  until  Polly 
Newland  came  out  of  the  sick  room,  and 
stopped  her. 

"You  might  choose  another  landing,  if  you 
want  to  do  that,"  she  said,  crossly.  "  You  Ve 
woke  her  up  now;  but  you  can  come  in 
if  you  like.  She  has  just  asked  for  you." 

Katharine  followed  her  in,  rather  awkwardly, 
and  sat  down  on  the  chair  that  was  pointed 
out  to  her,  and  tried  to  think  of  something 
appropriate  to  say.  It  was  difficult  to  know 
how  to  begin,  when  she  looked  round  the 
room,  and  noted  all  the  objects  that  seemed 
to  have  belonged  to  some  distant  period  in  her 
291 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

life,  before  the  world  had  become  so  hard  and 
cheerless.  But  Phyllis  was  looking  the  same 
as  ever,  except  that  she  was  rather  white,  and 
her  hair  was  strangely  tidy.  She  was  the  first 
to  speak. 

"  Hullo,"  she  said.  "  I  Ve  been  wanting 
to  see  you.  What's  the  matter  with  you, 
child  ?  " 

The  incongruity  of  being  asked  by  the 
invalid  for  the  cause  of  her  own  malady  did 
not  immediately  occur  to  Katharine.  But  the 
familiar  tone  of  sympathy  went  straight  to  her 
heart,  and  she  broke  down  completely.  She 
had  a  dim  notion  that  Polly  remonstrated 
angrily,  and  that  Polly  was  sent  out  of  the 
room ;  and  after  that  she  was  conscious  of 
nothing  except  of  the  comfort  of  being  able 
to  cry  undisturbed,  until  Phyllis  said  some- 
thing about  red  eyes,  and  they  joined  in  a 
spasmodic  laugh. 

"  Poor  old  girl,  what  have  they  been  doing 
to  you  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Everything  has  been  horrid,"  gasped 
Katharine.  "And  you  were  ill,  and  nobody 
understood,  and  oh,  Phyllis  !  —  I  am  a  prig  !  " 


292 


CHAPTER  XVI 

MARION  KEELEY  lay  in  an  indolent  attitude 
on  the  sofa  by  the  window.  Her  mother  was 
addressing  circulars  at  the  writing-table,  with 
the  anxious  haste  of  the  fashionable  woman  of 
business.  Both  of  them  looked  as  though  the 
London  season,  which  a  royal  wedding  had  pro- 
longed this  year,  had  been  too  much  for  them. 

"  He  is  coming  again  to-night,"  said  Marion, 
throwing  down  a  letter  she  had  been  reading. 
Her  tone  was  one  of  dissatisfaction. 

"  I  know,"  replied  her  mother.  "  I  asked 
him  to  come." 

Marion  made  a  gesture  of  impatience. 

"  Don't  you  think,"  she  said,  "  that  you 
might  occasionally,  for  the  sake  of  variety,  wait 
until  his  own  inclination  prompted  him  to 
come  ?  " 

"  I  don't  understand  you,"  said  Mrs.  Keeley, 
absently.  "  I  asked  him  because  I  wanted  to 
make  final  arrangements  with  him  about  Lady 
Suffolk's  drawing-room  meeting,  at  which  he 
has  promised  to  speak  to-morrow." 
293 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  observed  Marion  sarcas- 
tically, "  that  it  would  save  a  lot  of  trouble  if 
you  were  to  marry  him  yourself." 

"  It  is  very  surprising,"  complained  her 
mother,  "  how  you  persist  in  dragging  the 
frivolous  element  into  everything.  If  you 
were  only  like  your  cousin,  now,  —  so  earnest 
and  so  sympathetic !  How  is  it  that  you  are 
really  my  daughter  ?  " 

"  I  'm  sure  I  don't  know  ;  in  fact,  I  think  it 
is  the  only  subject  on  which  you  have  allowed 
me  to  remain  ignorant,"  returned  Marion, 
calmly.  "  But  you  need  n't  bother  about  me  ; 
I  am  going  out  to  dinner  in  any  case  to-night, 
so  you  will  be  able  to  make  your  arrangements 
with  Paul  without  the  distraction  of  the  friv- 
olous element.  Meanwhile,  can't  we  have 
some  tea  ? " 

The  Honourable  Mrs.  Keeley  returned  to 
her  circulars  with  a  sigh. 

"  One  might  almost  think,  to  hear  you  talk, 
that  you  did  not  want  to  marry  him  at  all,"  she 
exclaimed. 

"  One  almost  might,"  assented  Marion  ;  and 
she  tore  her  letter  into  little  pieces,  and  threw 
them  deftly  into  the  waste-paper  basket.  Her 
mother  looked  at  her  a  little  apprehensively. 

"  How  you  can,  even  in  fun,  pretend  to  ig- 
294 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

nore  the  merits  of  a  character  like  Paul  Wilton's 
is  beyond  my  comprehension,"  she  grumbled. 
"  What  more  can  you  want  in  a  man,  I  should 
like  to  know  ?  " 

"  More  ?  I  don't  want  any  more ;  I  want  a 
good  deal  less.  I  'm  not  ignoring  his  merits ;  I 
only  wish  I  could.  I  would  give  anything  to 
find  a  few  honest  human  imperfections  in  him. 
It  is  his  eternal  excellence  that  is  driving  me  to 
distraction.  What  a  fool  I  was  ever  to  let  him 
take  me  seriously  !  Of  course  I  never  should 
have  done,  if  he  had  not  provoked  me  by 
being  so  difficult  to  fascinate.  He  is  one  of 
those  awful  people  who  are  going  to  make 
heaven  unbearable ! " 

"Judging  by  your  aggravating  behaviour 
in  this  world,  you  won't  be  there  to  help  him," 
said  her  mother,  who  was  losing  her  patience 
rapidly  after  having  wrongly  addressed  two 
wrappers. 

"  I  hope  I  sha'n't.  If  all  the  people  go  to 
heaven  who  are  popularly  supposed  to  be  en 
roufe,  I  should  think  even  the  saints  would  be 
too  bored  to  stop  there.  As  for  Paul,  I  grant 
you  that  he  is  eminently  fitted  for  a  son-in-law, 
but  I  don't  see  why  I  should  be  the  victim  of 
his  heaven-sent  vocation." 

"  You  are  not  married  to  him  yet ;  and  if 
295 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

you    continue  in  this    strain    much    longer,   I 
doubt  if  you  ever  will  be." 

"  Oh,"  said  Marion,  with  sudden  animation, 
"  do  you  really  think  there  is  a  chance  of  his 
breaking  it  off? " 

The  opportune  arrival  of  Katharine  at  this 
moment  restored  some  of  Mrs.  Keeley's  good- 
humour.  She  approved  very  decidedly  of 
Katharine,  not  only  because  she  was  a  working- 
woman,  but  also  on  account  of  her  patience  as 
a  listener.  Katharine,  she  felt,  would  have 
made  an  ideal  daughter;  Katharine  under- 
stood the  serious  aspect  of  the  political  situa- 
tion, and  she  showed  no  signs  of  being 
bored  when  people  gave  her  their  opinion  of 
things.  So  she  received  her  with  genuine 
cordiality. 

"  I  am  so  glad  you  have  come,"  said  Marion, 
offering  her  a  perfunctory  embrace.  "  You 
have  interrupted  mamma,  and  made  tea  inevi- 
table. It  is  quite  providential." 

"  I  am  glad  to  be  the  unwitting  cause  of  so 
many  blessings,"  said  Katharine  drily.  "  I 
really  came  to  say  good-bye.  I  am  going 
home  to-morrow." 

"Holidays  already?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Keeley, 
as  though  she  grudged  even  the  working  gen- 
tlewoman her  moments  of  relaxation. 
296 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  They  have  not  come  too  soon  for  me," 
observed  Katharine,  to  whom  the  last  six 
weeks  had  seemed  an  endless  period  of  waiting. 
"  But  I  am  leaving  town  for  good  ;  so  I  suppose 
I  shall  not  see  you  again  for  some  time.  I  mean 
to  say,  I  have  given  up  my  teaching,  and  —  " 

"  How  charming  of  you  !  "  exclaimed  Marion, 
who  felt  that  the  last  barrier  to  a  warm  friend- 
ship with  her  cousin  was  now  removed.  "  Are 
you  really  going  to  be  like  everybody  else, 
now?" 

But  the  Honourable  Mrs.  Keeley  was  bit- 
terly disappointed. 

"  It  is  incredible,"  she  said.  "  Do  you  mean 
to  say  that  you  are  going  to  throw  up  your 
life's  work,  just  as  you  are  on  the  point  of 
being  a  brilliant  success  ?  " 

"  I  think,  on  the  contrary,  I  have  merely  been 
a  failure,"  said  Katharine,  with  a  patient  smile. 
"  You  see,  there  are  hundreds  of  people  who 
can  do  just  what  I  am  doing.  But  I  am 
wanted  at  home,  and  I  am  going  back  to  my 
father  ;  I  ought  never  to  have  left  him." 

"  Oh,  these  girls ! "  sighed  Mrs.  Keeley. 
"  What  is  the  use  of  trying  to  make  them 
independent  ?  And  I  thought  you  were  so 
different ;  I  held  you  up  as  an  example  to  my 
own  daughter — " 

297 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

"  I  am  so  sorry,"  murmured  Katharine,  in 
parenthesis.  Marion  only  laughed. 

"  I  was  proud  to  own  you  as  my  niece," 
pursued  Mrs.  Keeley,  increasing  in  fervour 
as  she  went  on.  "  You  were  doing  what  so 
few  women  succeed  in  doing,  and  I  had  the 
keenest  admiration  for  your  courage  and  your 
talent.  And  to  give  it  all  up  like  this ! 
Surely,  you  have  some  excellent  reason  for 
such  an  extraordinary  course  of  action  ?  " 

"  It  seems  to  me  quite  sufficient  reason 
that  I  am  more  wanted  at  home  than  here," 
replied  Katharine,  with  the  same  air  of 
gentle  endurance.  She  had  gone  through 
a  similar  explanation  more  than  once  lately, 
and  it  was  beginning  to  blunt  the  edge  of 
her  newly  made  resolutions.  It  also  took 
away  most  of  the  picturesqueness  of  being 
good. 

"  But,  indeed,  you  are  very  much  mis- 
taken," her  aunt  continued  to  urge.  "Who 
has  been  putting  this  effete  notion  of  duty 
into  your  head  ?  I  thought  we  working- 
women  had  buried  it  for  ever  !  Consider  what 
you  are  doing  in  throwing  up  the  position  you 
have  carved  out  for  yourself;  consider  the 
bad  effect  it  will  have  upon  others,  the  ex- 
ample, —  everything !  Your  place  is  the 
298 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

world,  Kitty,  the  great  world !  There  cannot 
be  any  work  for  you  to  do  in  a  home  like 
yours." 

"  There  is  always  plenty  to  do  in  the  vil- 
lage, and  nobody  to  do  it,"  said  Katharine. 
"  I  have  considered  the  matter  thoroughly, 
Aunt  Alicia,  and  my  mind  is  quite  made  up. 
Anybody  can  do  my  work  up  here  in  Lon- 
don ;  you  know  that  is  so." 

"  Indeed,  you  are  mistaken,"  said  her  aunt, 
vehemently.  It  seemed  particularly  hard  that 
her  favourite  protegee  should  have  deserted 
her  principles,  just  as  she  had  been  driven  to 
the  last  limit  of  endurance  by  her  own  daughter. 
"  Every  woman  must  do  her  own  work,  and 
no  one  else  can  do  it  for  her." 

"  Then  why  do  you  always  say  the  labour 
market  is  so  overcrowded  ? "  asked  Marion, 
making  a  mischievous  application  of  the 
knowledge  she  had  so  unwillingly  absorbed. 
But  she  was  not  heeded. 

"It  is  the  mass  we  have  to  consider,  not 
the  individual,"  continued  the  Honourable 
Mrs.  Keeley,  as  though  she  were  addressing 
the  room  from  a  platform.  "  It  is  for  lesser 
women  than  ourselves  to  look  after  the  home 
and  the  parish  ;  there  is  a  far  wider  sphere  re- 
served for  such  as  you  and  I.  It  would  be  a 
299 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

perfect  scandal  if  you  were  to  throw  yourself  away 
on  the  narrowness  of  the  domestic  circle." 

Katharine  felt  a  hysterical  desire  to  laugh, 
which  she  controlled  with  difficulty.  She  spoke 
very  humbly,  instead. 

"  It  must  be  my  own  fault,  if  I  have  allowed 
you  to  think  all  these  things  about  me,"  she 
said.  "  There  is  nothing  great  reserved  for 
me ;  I  am  just  a  complete  failure,  and  that  is 
the  end  of  all  my  ambition  and  all  my  con- 
ceit. I  wish  some  one  had  told  me  I  was 
conceited,  before  I  got  so  bad." 

The  Honourable  Mrs.  Keeley  was  silenced 
at  last.  None  of  her  experience  of  working 
gentlewomen  helped  her  to  meet  the  present 
situation.  A  woman  with  a  great  future  be- 
fore her  had  obviously  no  right  to  be  humble. 
But  Marion  realised  gleefully  that  she  had 
gained  a  new  and  unexpected  ally. 

"  I  always  said  you  were  much  too  jolly  to  be- 
long to  mamma's  set,"  she  observed;  at  which 
the  angered  feelings  of  her  mother  compelled 
her  to  seek  comfort  in  solitude,  and  she  made 
some  excuse  for  retiring  to  her  boudoir,  and 
left  the  two  rebels  together.  They  looked  at 
one  another  and  broke  into  mutual  merri- 
ment. But  Marion  laughed  the  loudest,  —  a 
fact  that  she  herself  was  the  first  to  appreciate. 
300 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  Kitty,"  she  said  suddenly,  growing  grave, 
"  I  am  so  sorry,  dear  !  What 's  up,  and  who 
has  been  treating  you  badly  ?  " 

She  strolled  away  immediately  to  pour  out 
tea,  and  Katharine  had  time  to  recover  from 
surprise  at  her  unusual  penetration. 

"  How  did  you  know  ?  "  she  asked,  slowly. 

"  I  guessed,  because  —  oh,  you  looked  like 
it,  or  something !  Don't  ask  me  to  give  a 
reason  for  anything  I  say,  please.  It  is  n't  my 
business,  of  course,  and  I  don't  want  to  know 
a  thing  about  it  if  you  would  rather  not  tell ; 
only,  I  'm  sorry  if  you  're  cut  up,  that 's  all. 
Did  you  chuck  him,  or  did  it  never  get  so  far 
as  that  ?  There,  I  really  don't  want  you  to  tell 
me  about  it.  Of  course,  he  was  much  older 
than  you,  and  much  wickeder,  and  he  flirted 
atrociously  with  you  and  you  were  taken  in 
by  him,  you  poor  little  innocent  dear !  I 
know  all  about  it,  and  the  way  they  get  hold 
of  girls  like  you  who  are  not  up  to  their 
wiles.  He  was  married,  too,  of  course  ?  They 
always  are,  the  worst  ones." 

It  was  too  much  trouble  to  correct  her  as- 
sumptions, and  Katharine  allowed  her  to  go 
on.  After  all,  her  sympathy  was  genuine,  if 
it  was  a  little  crudely  expressed. 

"  I  should  n't  think  any  more  about  him, 
301 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

if  I  were  you,"  continued  Marion.  "  They  're 
not  worth  it,  any  of  them  ;  go  and  get  another, 
and  snap  your  fingers  at  the  first.  You  're 
not  tied  to  one,  as  I  am." 

"  No,"  said  Katharine,  scalding  herself  with 
mouthfuls  of  boiling  tea.  "  I  'm  not." 

"  I  know  I  would  give  anything  to  get  rid 
of  mine,"  said  Marion  sorrowfully.  "  May 
you  never  know  the  awful  monotony  of  being 
engaged ! " 

"  I  don't  fancy  I  ever  shall,"  observed 
Katharine. 

"  Always  the  same  writing  on  the  break- 
fast table,"  sighed  Marion;  "always  the 
same  face  on  the  back  seat  of  the  carriage ; 
always  the  same  photograph  all  over  the 
house,  —  oh,  it 's  maddening  !  You  would  n't 
be  able  to  stand  it  for  a  day,  Kitty  ! " 

"  Perhaps  not,"  said  Katharine.  "  Then  your 
engagement  is  publicly  announced  now  ?  " 

"  I  should  rather  think  so  !  I  am  tired  of 
being  congratulated  by  a  lot  of  idiots,  who 
don't  even  take  the  trouble  to  find  out 
whether  I  want  to  be  married  or  not.  And 
then,  the  boys !  Bobby  is  going  to  shoot 
himself,  he  says ;  but  of  course  Bobby  always 
says  that.  And  Jack  has  gone  to  South  Africa ; 
I  don't  exactly  know  why,  except  that  every 
302 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

one  goes  to  South  Africa  when  there  is  n't 
any  particular  reason  for  staying  in  town. 
And  Tommy  —  you  remember  Tommy,  don't 
you  ?  He  was  my  best  boy  for  ever  so 
long ;  I  rather  liked  Tommy.  Well,  he  has 
gone  and  married  that  stupid  Ethel  Hum- 
phreys, and  he  always  said  she  pinched. 
I  know  why  he  did  it,  too.  He  was  being 
objectionably  serious,  one  day,  and  said  he 
would  do  anything  on  earth  for  me ;  so  I 
asked  him  to  go  and  marry  mamma,  because 
then  I  should  get  eight  hundred  a  year. 
And  he  did  n't  like  it  a  bit ;  Tommy  always 
was  ridiculously  hot-tempered.  Oh,  dear, 
I  'm  sick  of  it  all !  I  believe  you  're  the 
only  person  I  know,  who  has  n't  congratu- 
lated me." 

"Apparently,  you  do  not  consider  your- 
self a  subject  for  congratulation,"  said  Katha- 
rine, smiling  faintly. 

"  Oh,  you  're  not  like  all  the  others,  and 
I  should  like  to  be  congratulated  by  you. 
You  would  mean  what  you  said,  anyhow." 

"  I  certainly  should,"  exclaimed  Katharine. 

"  How  earnestly  you  said  that !     It 's  fright- 
fully nice  of  you  to  care  so  much,  though.     I 
was  telling  Paul  what  a  good  sort  you  were, 
the  other  day,  and  he  quite  agreed." 
303 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  Was  n't  it  rather  dull  for  him  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  I  'm  sure  it  was  n't ;  he  takes  a 
tremendous  interest  in  you  ;  he  says  you  are 
the  cleverest  woman  he  knows,  and  the  plucki- 
est. He  does,  really  !  " 

"  I  have  no  doubt  of  it.  He  has  always 
thought  me  clever  and  plucky,"  said  Katha- 
rine. 

"  Well,  it 's  more  than  he  thinks  about  me, 
anyhow,"  said  Marion  ruefully.  "  He  does  n't 
think  I  am  good  for  anything,  except  to  play 
with." 

"  And  to  fall  in  love  with,"  added  Katharine 
softly. 

"  Why  did  n't  you  come  and  meet  him  the 
other  evening  ?  "  continued  Marion.  "  He 
seemed  so  disappointed.  So  was  I  ;  I  wanted 
you  to  come,  for  lots  of  reasons.  I  get  so 
bored  when  I  am  left  alone  with  him  !  I  like 
him  ever  so  much  better  if  there  is  some  one 
else  there ;  and  you  are  the  only  girl  I  know 
who  would  be  safe  not  to  flirt  with  him. 
Bobby  said,  only  the  other  day,  that  you  were 
much  too  nice  to  flirt  with.  And  girls  are  so 
mean,  sometimes,  —  are  n't  they  ?  I  was  really 
sorry  when  you  refused." 

"  If  you  had  told  me  the  real  reason  for  your 
invitation,  instead  of  the  conventional  one,  I 

304 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

might  have  made  more  effort  to  come,"  said 
Katharine. 

"  You  old  dear,  don't  be  sarcastic ;  I  never 
can  endure  sarcasm.  But  you  will  come  next 
time,  won't  you  ?  Oh,  dear,  I  am  forgetting 
all  about  your  own  trouble ;  what  a  selfish 
wretch  I  am  !  Are  you  sure  there  is  nothing 
I  can  do  for  you  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  thanks  ;  at  least,  nothing  I  would 
let  you  do." 

"  Sure  ?  Well,  let  me  know  if  there  is.  Are 
you  really  very  gone  on  him,  Kitty  ?  " 

"  Please  don't,"  said  Katharine. 

"  All  right,  I  won't.  But  I  wish  you  would 
try  a  course  of  boys  for  a  time ;  it  would  make 
you  feel  so  much  happier.  They  're  so  fresh 
and  harmless." 

"  Even  when  they  shoot  themselves  ?  "  said 
Katharine. 

"  Oh,  that 's  only  Bobby.  Must  you  really 
go  ?  You  old  dear,  you  have  done  me  such  a 
lot  of  good.  What  is  it,  Williams  ?  " 

Mr.  Wilton  was  in  the  library,  the  man 
announced,  and  would  be  glad  to  see  either 
Mrs.  Keeley  or  her  daughter  for  a  moment, 
and  he  would  rather  not  come  upstairs,  as  he 
was  in  a  hurry.  Marion  gave  a  petulant  little 
stamp. 

20  305 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  Oh,  send  mamma  to  him !  How  like  Paul, 
not  to  care  which  of  us  he  sees  !  Just  fancy, 
if  it  were  Tommy,  now  !  Stop,  though,  show 
him  up  here,  Williams.  You  will  be  able  to 
congratulate  him,  Kitty ;  it  will  put  him  in  a 
good  humour.  Oh,  nonsense  !  you  can  wait 
just  for  that,  and  I  have  n't  anything  to  say  to 
him  that  he  has  n't  heard  hundreds  of  times 
before." 

So  Katharine  found  herself  shaking  hands 
with  him  once  more,  and  congratulating  him 
on  being  engaged  to  her  cousin,  Marion 
Keeley.  She  had  not  seen  him  since  the 
night  of  the  thunderstorm,  when  he  had  stood 
in  the  old  doorway  in  Essex  Court,  with  the 
lamplight  on  his  face. 

"  You  are  very  good ;  it  is  kind  of  you  to 
take  so  much  interest,"  he  was  saying  with 
frigid  politeness. 

They  were  silent  after  that,  and  Marion  said 
she  was  sure  they  must  have  crowds  to  talk 
about,  and  she  would  go  upstairs  and  ask  her 
mother  about  Lady  Suffolk's  drawing-room 
meeting  ;  and  they  both  made  perfectly  futile 
efforts  to  keep  her  in  the  room,  and  were 
ashamed  of  having  made  them  when  she  had 
gone,  and  they  were  left  to  face  the  situation 
alone. 

306 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Paul,  with  an  effort,  "  that 
your  holidays  will  soon  be  beginning  ?  " 

"  They  have  begun  to-day,"  said  Katharine. 
"  This  is  the  first  day  —  of  my  last  holidays." 

"  Your  —  last  holidays  ?  "  She  felt,  without 
seeing,  that  he  had  looked  up  sharply  at  her. 

"  I  don't  suppose  it  will  interest  you,"  she 
went  on,  rousing  herself  to  be  more  explicit ; 
"  but  I  am  giving  up  my  work  in  London,  and 
going  home  for  good." 

There  was  the  slightest  perceptible  pause 
before  he  spoke. 

"  Would  you  care  to  tell  me  why  ?  " 

"  Because,"  said  Katharine  slowly,  "  I  hap- 
pened to  find  out,  through  a  friend,  that  I  was 
a  prig ;  and  I  am  going  home  to  try  and  learn 
not  to  be  a  prig  any  more."  She  was  looking 
straight  at  him  as  she  finished  speaking.  His 
face  was  quite  incomprehensible  just  then. 

"  Was  that  a  true  friend  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  People  who  tell  us  unpleasant  things  about 
ourselves  are  always  said  to  be  our  true  friends, 
are  they  not  ?  "  she  said,  evasively. 

"  That  is  not  an  answer  to  my  question ;  I 
was  not  dealing  in  generalities  when  I  asked 
it.  But  of  course,  you  have  every  right  to 
withhold  the  answer,  if  it  pleases  you  —  " 

"  I  don't  think  I  know  the  answer,"  said 
307 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

Katharine.  "I  have  always  found  your  ques- 
tions too  difficult  to  answer ;  and  as  to  this 
one,  —  I  wish  I  could  be  sure  that  it  was  a 
friend  at  all."  He  moved  his  chair,  involun- 
tarily, a  little  nearer  hers. 

"  Can  I  do  anything  to  make  you  feel  more 
sure  ?  "  he  asked. 

She  shook  her  head,  and  he  moved  away 
again.  "  Of  course,  you  are  the  best  judge  in 
the  matter,"  he  resumed,  more  naturally ; 
"  but  it  is  rather  a  serious  step  to  take  at  the 
outset  of  your  career,  is  it  not  ? " 

"  Perhaps,"  she  said,  indifferently  ;  "  but 
then,  I  am  not  a  man,  you  see.  There  is  no 
career  possible  for  a  woman,  because  her  feel- 
ings are  always  more  important  to  her  than  all 
the  ambition  in  the  world.  A  man  only  draws 
on  his  feelings  for  his  recreation  ;  but  a  woman 
makes  them  the  whole  business  of  her  life, 
and  that  is  why  she  never  gets  on.  I  don't 
suppose  you  can  realise  this,  because  it  is  so 
different  for  you.  Everybody  expects  a  man  to 
get  on  ;  it  is  made  comparatively  easy  for  him, 
and  nobody  ever  disputes  his  way  of  doing  it. 
A  man  can  have  as  much  fun  as  he  likes,  as 
long  as  he  is  n't  found  out,  —  and  it 's  easy  for 
a  man  not  to  be  found  out,"  she  added,  with  a 
sigh. 

308 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  Easier  than  for  a  woman  ?  "  He  spoke  in 
the  bantering  tone  that  was  so  familiar  to  her. 

"  Oh,  a  woman  is  dogged  by  detectives  from 
her  cradle,  mostly  drawn  from  the  ranks  of  her 
own  sex.  It  is  a  compliment  we  pay  ourselves, 
in  one  sense.  We  dare  not  inquire  into  the 
private  life  of  a  man,  because  of  the  iniquities 
he  is  supposed  to  practise ;  but  there  is  so  lit- 
tle scandal  attached  to  a  woman's  name,  that 
we  are  anxious  not  to  miss  any  of  it."  She 
laughed  at  her  small  attempt  to  be  frivolous, 
and  Paul  brightened  considerably.  He  could 
understand  her  when  she  was  in  this  mood, 
and  his  peace  of  mind  was  undisturbed  by  it. 

"  I  suppose  the  man  is  still,  unborn  who 
will  take  the  trouble  to  champion  his  sex,  and 
explain  that  men  are  not  all  profligates  before 
they  are  married,"  he  observed.  "  I  wonder 
why  women  always  think  of  us  as  cads,  and 
then  take  us  for  husbands.  I  can't  think  why 
they  want  to  marry  us  at  all,  though." 

"  And  we  can't  think  what  reason  there  is 
for  you  to  offer  us  marriage,  unless  you  do  it 
for  position  or  something  like  that,"  retorted 
Katharine,  and  then  bit  her  lip  and  stopped 
short,  as  she  realised  what  she  had  said.  In 
the  embarrassing  pause  that  followed,  Marion 
came  back  into  the  room. 
309 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  Well,  you  two  don't  look  as  though  you  'd 
had  much  conversation,"  she  remarked. 

"  We  have  n't,"  said  Katharine,  getting  up 
to  leave.  "  Mr.  Wilton's  conversation,  you 
see,  is  all  bespoken  already." 

"  Miss  Austen  is  a  little  hard  on  me,"  said 
Paul.  "  I  have  had  so  little  practice  in  con- 
versation with  brilliant  and  learned  young  lec- 
turers, that  —  " 

"  That  I  will  leave  you  to  a  less  dismal  com- 
panion," interrupted  Katharine,  a  little  abruptly. 

"Will  you  allow  me  to  suggest,"  he  went 
on,  as  he  held  her  hand  for  a  moment,  "  that 
you  should  try  and  think  more  kindly  of  the 
particular  friend  who  was  so  unpleasantly  frank 
to  you  ?  " 

"  If  I  thought  that  the  friend  in  question 
were  likely  to  be  affected  by  my  opinion  of 
him,  perhaps  I  might,"  she  said,  as  she  turned 
away. 

When  she  had  gone,  Marion  asked  him 
what  he  had  meant. 

"  Merely  a  passing  reflection  on  something 
she  had  been  telling  me,"  was  his  reply. 

"  Oh,"  said  Marion,  "  did  she  tell  you  about 
her  love  affair  ?  " 

"  My  dear  girl,  Miss  Austen  is  not  likely  to 
favour  me  with  these  interesting  disclosures,  is 
310 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

she  ?  I  did  n't  know  she  had  a  love  affair,  as 
you  rather  frankly  express  it." 

"  She  is  n't  a  bit  the  sort,  is  she  ?  I  only 
found  it  out  this  afternoon  ;  he 's  an  awful 
beast,  I  should  think,  —  led  her  on,  and  treated 
her  villainously,  poor  old  Kitty !  Is  n't  it  a 
shame  ? " 

"  Did  she  tell  you  all  that  ?  " 

"  Don't  look  so  surprised  !  Of  course  she 
did  ;  at  least,  I  guessed,  because  she  looked  so 
miserable.  I  always  know  ;  I  've  had  so  much 
experience,  you  see.  But  it 's  much  worse  for 
Kitty,  don't  you  know,  because  she  takes 
things  so  seriously.  It 's  a  mistake,  is  n't  it  ? 
I  would  give  a  good  lot  to  meet  the  man  who 
has  ill  treated  her,  though  !  " 

"  Yes  ?     What  would  you  do  to  him  ?  " 

"  I  would  tell  him  he  was  a  horrid  little 
bounder,  and  that  Kitty  was  well  rid  of  him." 

"In  which  case  there  is  no  occasion  to  pity 
her,  is  there  ?  " 

"  Oh,  how  unsympathetic  you  are !  Of 
course  it 's  just  as  bad,  whatever  the  man  is 
like.  It's  always  the  saints  like  Kitty  who 
break  their  hearts  for  the  most  worthless  men. 
I  'm  not  made  like  that ;  I  should  soon  con- 
sole myself  with  some  one  else,  and  make  the 
first  one  mad.  But  then,  I  'm  not  clever." 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

"  Your  cousin  is  a  most  interesting  psycho- 
logical study,"  said  Paul  vaguely. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  She  is  a  very  nice 
girl  indeed,"  cried  Marion  indignantly;  and 
Paul  silently  condemned  the  whole  sex,  with- 
out reservation. 

It  was  a  particularly  bright  and  sunny  even- 
ing when  Katharine  returned  to  her  home,  —  a 
failure.  She  felt  that,  to  be  appropriate,  it 
should  have  been  dull  and  dreary  ;  but  it  was 
on  the  contrary  quite  at  variance  with  her  feel- 
ings, and  she  grew  unaccountably  happier  in 
spite  of  herself,  as  the  train  sped  past  the  famil- 
iar landmarks  on  the  way  and  brought  her 
nearer  every  minute  to  the  home  of  her  child- 
hood. For  there  was  a  sneaking  consideration 
for  herself  in  her  sudden  desire  to  serve  others ; 
she  had  felt  out  of  tune  with  the  world  since  it 
had  been  the  means  of  revealing  her  deficiencies 
to  herself,  and  she  longed  for  the  panacea  of 
home  sympathy,  which  was  still  connected  in 
her  mind  with  the  days  when  she  had  been 
supreme  in  a  small  circle,  a  circle  that  believed 
in  her  if  it  did  not  precisely  understand  her. 
She  had  found  something  wanting  in  the  sym- 
pathies and  interests  which  had  absorbed  her 
for  the  last  two  years,  and  she  turned  instinct- 
ively to  those  earlier  ones  which  may  have 

312 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

offered  her  no  great  allurements  at  the  time,  but 
which  at  least  contained  no  rude  awakenings. 
She  forgot  the  petty  discomforts  and  frequent 
annoyances  of  her  life  at  home,  in  her  present 
desire  for  rest  and  peace  ;  she  was  tired  of 
fighting  hard  for  her  happiness  and  gaining 
nothing  but  a  moiety  of  pleasure  in  return ; 
and  the  weary  condition  of  mind  and  body  in 
which  she  found  herself  at  the  end  of  it  all, 
probably  helped  her  to  exaggerate  the  advan- 
tages of  that  former  existence  of  hers,  and  to 
mistake  its  monotony  for  restfulness. 

She  had  her  first  disillusionment  as  she 
hastened  out  of  the  station.  It  was  no  one's 
fault  that  the  Rector  had  been  obliged  to  attend 
a  meeting  of  the  archaeological  society,  and  that 
Miss  Esther  had  been  detained  in  the  village ; 
but  they  had  never  omitted  to  meet  her  before, 
and  that  they  should  have  done  so  on  this  par- 
ticular occasion  which  was  of  so  much  import 
to  her,  appeared  in  the  light  of  a  bad  omen, 
and  she  set  it  down  sadly  as  another  penalty 
that  she  was  to  pay  for  having  neglected  her 
real  duty  so  long.  But  she  had  yet  to  learn 
that  her  ardent  desire  to  sacrifice  herself  for 
somebody  did  not  bring  with  it  the  necessary 
opportunity,  and  it  was  not  encouraging  to 
discover  that  no  one  was  particularly  anxious 
313 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

to  be  the  recipient  of  her  good  works,  and  that 
her  effort  at  well-doing  was  more  resented  by 
those  in  authority  than  her  previous  and  un- 
disguised course  of  self-indulgence.  Even  Miss 
Esther  mistrusted  her  enthusiasm,  and  evidently 
looked  upon  it  as  another  freak  on  the  part  of 
her  capricious  niece,  which  would  probably 
prove  as  transient  as  the  last ;  and  Katharine 
felt  that  she  was  touching  the  extreme  limits  of 
her  endurance  in  the  first  few  days  she  spent 
at  the  Rectory. 

"  It  is  very  hard,"  she  complained  to  herself 
when  she  had  been  home  about  a  week,  "  that 
they  should  make  it  so  much  easier  for  me  to 
be  bad  than  good.  All  the  same,"  she  added, 
with  a  touch  of  her  old  defiant  spirit,  "  I  am 
going  to  be  good,  whether  they  like  it  or 
not ! " 


CHAPTER   XVII 

IVINGDON  was  one  of  those  villages,  common 
to  the  chalk  district,  that  cease  to  possess  any 
charm  in  the  wet  weather.  The  small  ranges 
of  round-topped  hills  which  formed  the  only 
feature  in  the  flat  green  stretches  of  country 
entirely  lost  the  few  characteristics  they  pos- 
sessed, in  the  absence  of  sunshine,  and  presented 
neither  charm  nor  majesty  in  the  heavy  grey 
atmosphere  that  surrounded  them.  The  land- 
scape appeared  even  less  inspiriting  than  usual 
to  Katharine,  on  a  rainy  day  in  the  late  autumn, 
as  she  plodded  through  the  most  squalid  part 
of  the  village,  and  prepared  to  walk  home 
through  a  kind  of  mist  that  had  none  of  the 
exhilarating  qualities  of  the  stormy  rain  that 
always  appealed  to  her.  After  four  months  of 
dull  and  virtuous  renunciation,  such  a  day  as 
this  was  likely  to  hasten  the  reaction  that  had 
become  inevitable.  It  was  tea  time  when  she 
reached  the  Rectory  ;  and  the  aspect  of  the 
precisely  arranged  table,  with  its  rigid  erec- 
315 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

tion  of  double  dahlias  in  the  middle,  and  the 
starched  figure  of  Miss  Esther  at  the  head  of 
it,  completed  the  feeling  of  revulsion  in  her 
mind. 

"  My  dear,"  said  her  aunt,  as  Katharine 
flung  herself  into  a  chair,  "have  you  no 
intention  of  making  yourself  tidy  before  we 
begin?" 

"  My  only  intention  is  that  of  having  tea  as 
speedily  as  possible,"  replied  Katharine.  "  If 
Peter  Bunce,  or  any  other  depressing  person- 
age is  likely  to  turn  up,  he  may  as  well  see  me 
in  my  wet  weather  hat  as  in  anything  else. 
Besides,  I  rather  like  myself  in  my  wet  weather 
hat,  in  spite  of  the  disapproval  it  has  excited 
among  the  gods  of  the  neighbourhood." 

She  waited  instinctively  for  the  reproof  that 
usually  came  as  an  accompaniment  to  her 
criticism  of  the  neighbourhood ;  but  Miss 
Esther  for  once  was  preoccupied,  and  allowed 
her  to  go  on  undisturbed.  "  Mrs.  Jones 
has  got  another  baby,"  continued  Katharine. 
"  That 's  the  seventh.  And  Farmer  Rickard 
seems  to  have  seized  the  opportunity  to  turn 
her  husband  off  for  the  winter.  There  posi- 
tively is  n't  another  scrap  of  news,  —  so  may 
I  have  some  tea  ?  " 

"  Talking  of  babies,"  observed  the  Rector, 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

looking  up  from  his  book,  "  I  heard  this 
morning  that  some  one  was  going  to  be  mar- 
ried. Now,  whoever  could  it  have  been,  I 
wonder ! " 

"  I  did  n't  know,"  said  Katharine,  "  that 
any  one  was  left  to  be  married  in  this  village, 
above  the  age  of  sixteen." 

"  Ah,  to  be  sure,"  continued  the  Rector,  smil- 
ing at  his  unusual  effort  of  memory,  "it  was 
your  cousin  Marion.  You  remember  Alicia 
Keeley,  do  you  not,  Esther  ?  Well,  this  is 
her  daughter;  they  both  came  to  stay  with 
us  some  years  ago,  if  you  remember;  and  she 
is  to  be  married  to  a  barrister,  whose  name  — 
my  child,  that  is  the  third  time  I  have  passed 
you  the  butter,  and  you  have  already  helped 
yourself  twice  —  whose  name  is  Paul  Wilton. 
It's  very  odd,"  he  added,  with  his  nervous 
laugh,  "  but,  although  the  name  is  perfectly 
familiar  to  me,  I  do  not  seem  to  recollect  the 
man  in  the  least.  The  only  Wilton  I  can  re- 
call with  certainty  is  the  exceedingly  able  and 
scholarly  author  of  our  best  work  on  copper 
tokens ;  but  —  " 

"  Well,    this  is  his    son,  of  course,  Cyril," 

interrupted     Miss    Esther     impatiently.       "  I 

should    not   have   thought   it   required    much 

effort  to  remember  the  man  who  enjoyed  your 

317 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

hospitality  for  at  least  two  months.  A  very 
nice  young  man  he  was,  too,  —  of  an  excellent 
family,  and  with  a  delicate  regard  for  propriety 
which  was  most  fortunate  considering  the  em- 
barrassing circumstances  in  which  we  were  placed 
at  the  time.  So  he  is  going  to  marry  into  the 
family  ?  What  a  coincidence !  I  don't  re- 
member much  about  Marion,  she  was  so  young 
when  she  stayed  here ;  but  if  she  has  grown 
up  at  all  like  that  terribly  advanced  mother 
of  hers,  poor  Mr.  Wilton  will  have  his  hands 
full.  How  did  he  meet  her,  I  wonder  ?  Did 
you  ever  see  him  in  Curzon  street,  Katharine  ?  " 

"  Sometimes  ;  they  were  engaged  early  in  the 
summer.  But  it  is  n't  a  bit  important,  is  it?  " 
said  Katharine. 

"  You  knew  they  were  engaged,  and  you 
have  kept  it  to  yourself  all  this  time  ?  "  ex- 
claimed her  aunt.  "  I  really  think  you  are  the 
most  exasperating  girl,  Katharine  !  " 

"  Why  ?  I  suppose  it  is  rather  cruel,  though, 
to  rob  any  one  of  the  smallest  piece  of  gos- 
sip, in  a  place  like  this,"  observed  Katharine 
sarcastically. 

"  To  be  sure !  to  be  sure  !  I  remember  him 
perfectly,"  the  Rector  was  chuckling  gleefully. 
"  A  delightful  young  fellow,  with  some  knowl- 
edge of  Oriental  china.  We  must  send  them 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

a  little  present,  my  dear,  —  something  he  would 
be  able  to  appreciate.  There  is  a  delightful 
Elizabethan  chest  at  Walker's  —  " 

"  I  see  no  necessity  for  a  wedding  present 
at  all,"  interrupted  Miss  Esther.  "  We  only 
know  him  very  slightly,  and  we  have  n't  seen 
the  Keeleys  for  years.  If  Katharine  likes  to 
send  her  cousin  a  little  remembrance,  that  is 
her  own  affair  and  she  can  do  as  she  likes," 
she  added,  with  a  princely  condescension.  "  I 
really  wonder,  Cyril,  that  you  can  make  such 
an  extravagant  suggestion,  with  the  poor  cry- 
ing out  at  your  very  doors  !  " 

The  Rector  reflected  on  the  beauty  of  the  old 
oak  chest  he  had  coveted  for  weeks,  and  sighed 
deeply.  Katharine  roused  herself,  and  laughed 
in  a  distinctly  forced  manner. 

"  Send  them  your  blessing,  auntie,"  she 
said ;  "  and  congratulate  Mr.  Wilton  on  his 
good  fortune  in  entering  our  particular  family. 
I  am  sure  it  must  be  an  alliance  he  has  coveted 
ever  since  he  first  made  our  acquaintance !  It 
will  only  cost  a  penny  stamp,  and  I  am  sure 
the  poor  of  the  village  will  not  grudge  that 
for  such  a  laudable  object.  Hey-day,  do  let 
us  talk  about  something  else  !  Do  you  know 
the  Grange  is  put  up  for  sale  ?  " 

"  You  don't  say  so  !  "  exclaimed  Miss  Esther, 
319 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

who  was  as  easily  diverted  as  a  child.  "  Dear 
me  !  and  poor  Mrs.  Morton  hardly  laid  to  her 
last  rest  !  The  want  of  feeling  that  that  young 
Edward  has  shown  throughout  is  almost  in- 
credible. To  requite  the  lifelong  devotion  of 
his  mother  by  selling  her  old  home  a  month 
after  her  death  !  Ah,  well,  I  suppose  we  have 
all  done  our  work  here,  and  it  is  time  for  us  to 
follow  her ! " 

"  What  rubbish  !  "  cried  Katharine  hotly. 
"  Why  should  he  pretend  to  be  fond  of  his 
mother  just  because  she  is  dead  ?  She  was 
never  a  bit  fond  of  him,  when  she  was  alive, 
and  he  wanted  her  affection  badly  enough  then. 
Besides,  it  can't  matter  to  her  whether  the 
house  is  sold  or  not,  and  I  expect  he  wants 
the  money." 

"  Money  ?  Why,  she  has  left  him  every 
penny  she  had,  —  so  what  more  can  he  want  ? 
I  know  she  did,  for  a  fact,  because  the  house- 
keeper told  me  so." 

"  I  should  n't  dream  of  disputing  such  an 
excellent  authority,  but  I  do  know  her  gener- 
osity was  purely  accidental,  and  that  she  would 
have  made  another  will  if  she  had  not  been 
taken  ill  so  suddenly,"  said  Katharine,  getting 
up  and  walking  to  the  window.  The  view 
outside,  with  the  sodden  lawn  and  the  drip- 
320 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

ping  trees,  was  as  cheerless  as  the  conversation 
within. 

"  The  house  ought  not  to  be  allowed  to 
stand,"  said  the  Rector,  with  an  indignation  that 
he  never  bestowed  on  the  human  imperfections 
so  bitterly  deplored  by  his  sister.  "  A  wretched 
modern  thing,  belonging  to  the  very  worst 
period  of  domestic  art !  " 

"  They  are  doing  it  up,"  said  Katharine 
from  the  window.  "  I  wonder,"  she  added 
softly  to  the  sodden  lawn  and  the  dripping 
trees,  "  if  he  knows  that  they  have  mended  the 
gap  in  the  hedge  ?  "  Perhaps  it  was  only  the 
dulness  of  the  weather  that  was  depressing  her, 
but  her  eyes,  as  she  laid  her  cheek  against  the 
window-pane,  were  full  of  tears.  Miss  Esther 
continued  her  speculations  unconsciously. 

"  I  suppose  he  will  travel,"  she  said.  "  It 
amounts  to  seven  hundred  a  year,  the  house- 
keeper told  me ;  and  I  'm  sure  it 's  seven 
hundred  more  than  he  deserves,  the  unfeeling 
fellow !  " 

"  It  is  n't  his  fault  that  he  did  n't  get  on 
with  his  mother,"  said  Katharine.  "  People 
can't  choose  their  relations,  can  they  ?  And 
I  'm  sure,  under  the  present  system,  every 
obstacle  is  put  in  the  way  of  our  hitting  it 
off  with  our  own  people." 
21  321 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

She  was  almost  surprised  at  her  own  vehe- 
mence in  Ted's  defence.  She  had  never  seen 
him  since  the  day  he  had  called  on  her  in 
Queen's  Crescent  and  rejected  the  affection 
she  so  tardily  offered  him,  and  the  smart  of 
that  rejection  was  still  present  with  her,  gently 
as  he  had  expressed  it ;  but  she  could  no 
more  suppress  her  old  instinct  of  protection 
for  him  than  she  could  control  her  thoughts. 

"  I  find  it  quite  impossible  to  understand 
you,  when  you  are  in  these  heartless  moods," 
said  her  aunt  crossly. 

"  Am  I  heartless  ?  "  said  Katharine,  with 
her  eyes  still  full  of  tears.  "  I  suppose  that 
must  be  it ;  I  wondered  what  was  the  matter 
with  me  this  afternoon.  Of  course  I  am  in 
one  of  my  heartless  moods.  Oh,  dear,  how 
stupid  it  all  is  !  "  She  sighed  desperately,  and 
turned  away  from  the  dreary  outlook.  "  I  'm 
sorry  I  did  n't  gather  any  more  news  in  my 
excursion  to  the  village,"  she  went  on  presently, 
with  an  obvious  effort  to  be  agreeable.  "  Oh, 
I  forgot,  —  I  met  the  doctor." 

"  Yes  ?  What  had  he  to  say  for  himself?  " 
asked  Miss  Esther,  whose  dignity  was  always 
subject  to  her  curiosity. 

"He  asked  me  to  marry  him,  and  I  re- 
fused," answered  Katharine ;  and  she  broke 
322 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

into  a  peal  of  laughter  at  the  immediate  effect 
of  her  words. 

"  What  ?  Really,  Katharine,  you  are  per- 
fectly incorrigible,"  said  Miss  Esther,  in  a 
tone  that  was  expressive  rather  of  incredulity 
than  of  disapproval. 

"It's  very  odd,"  observed  Katharine,  "that 
one  has  only  to  tell  the  truth  to  be  disbelieved. 
And  I  'm  sure  I  was  very  sorry  to  be  obliged 
to  refuse  him,  because  I  felt  there  was  no  one 
else  in  the  place  he  could  possibly  ask.  Poor 
doctor ! " 

Miss  Esther  said  a  rapid  grace  to  show  how 
outraged  she  felt,  and  walked  out  of  the  room 
without  another  word.  Katharine  sighed  once 
more  and  looked  across  at  her  father,  who 
was  apparently  absorbed  in  his  book  and  ob- 
livious of  what  had  been  passing.  But  Katha- 
rine's acquaintance  with  the  world,  short  as  it 
had  been,  had  considerably  widened  her  vision, 
and  she  knew  somehow  as  she  looked  at  him 
that  he  was  not  reading  at  that  moment. 

"  Daddy,  dear  daddy  !  "  she  cried,  impetu- 
ously, "  I  could  n't  help  it  this  afternoon,  I 
could  n't,  really  !  I  believe  I  have  a  devil  in 
me  some  days,  and  this  is  one  of  them. 
Daddy,  forgive  me  for  being  so  selfish  and 
horrid;  I  hate  myself  for  my  abominable  tem- 
323 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

per,  I  do  indeed.     I  think  I  have  never  been 
so  miserable  in  my  whole  life  before !  " 

"  My  child,  what  is  it  ?  I  don't  think  I 
quite  understand,"  said  the  Rector  gently.  She 
came  and  sat  on  the  arm  of  his  chair,  and  he 
stroked  her  hair  mechanically. 

"  Of  course  you  don't,  —  how  should  you  ?  " 
she  exclaimed,  half  laughing  to  hide  the  shake 
in  her  voice.  "  But  I  wish  I  knew  why  I 
have  these  bad  fits ;  I  would  do  just  anything 
to  get  better,  but  /  cant  I  When  I  don't 
feel  wretched  I  feel  absurd,  and  that 's  ever 
so  much  worse.  Why  is  it  that  I  feel  like 
this,  daddy  ?  " 

"  Shall  we  send  for  the  doctor  ? "  asked 
the  Rector  innocently  ;  and  he  wondered  why 
she  seemed  amused. 

"  I  don't  fancy  he  would  care  to  come  just 
yet,"  she  said,  demurely.  They  were  silent 
for  a  few  moments.  The  Rector  asked  her 
presently  if  she  would  like  to  go  away  again. 

"  I  don't  know  ;  I  don't  seem  to  want  any- 
thing. Ivingdon  is  intolerable ;  but  I  said  I 
would  endure  it  for  your  sake,  and  it  seems 
so  /eeble  merely  to  have  failed  again.  After 
all,  I  have  n't  done  the  least  atom  of  good 
by  giving  up  my  work  and  coming  home, 
have  I  ?  " 

324 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

The  Rector  remembered  many  incidents  in 
the  last  four  months,  and  did  not  contradict 
her;  but  his  silence  was  so  habitual  to  him 
that  she  hardly  noticed  it. 

"  Self-sacrifice  is  all  very  well  in  theory," 
she  went  on  disconsolately,  "  but  if  nobody 
wants  you  to  sacrifice  yourself,  what's  the 
good  of  it  ?  I  don't  believe  there  is  a  single 
Christian  virtue  that  works  properly,  when 
you  come  to  practise  it ;  and  I  've  wasted  four 
good  months  in  finding  it  out.  Oh,  dear, 
what  a  mortal  idiot  I  've  been  !  I  wish  you 
understood,  daddy,"  she  added  wistfully. 

"  I  'm  not  sure  that  I  don't,  Kitty,"  he  said 
tentatively,  and  waited  to  be  contradicted. 

"  I  believe  you  do ;  I  believe  you  always 
have  understood  !  "  she  cried.  "  But  I  always 
expect  too  much  from  people,  and  I  never  can 
take  any  one  on  trust.  How  I  can  be  so 
unlike  you  is  a  mystery  to  me." 

"  You  are  like  your  dear  mother,  bless  her," 
said  the  Rector  with  unconscious  humour ; 
and  they  became  silent  again. 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  went  on  presently, 
"  if  you  'd  promise  not  to  mind,  daddy,  I  half 
think  I  'd  like  to  go  away  again,  for  a  while. 
I  've  still  got  some  money,  you  know,  and 
I  might  try  Paris,  or  some  new  place.  It 
325 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

seems  hopeless  to  stay  on  here,  and  worry 
Aunt  Esther  by  everything  I  do  or  say ;  I 
know  she  considers  me  the  cross  she  has  to 
bear,  but  it  seems  a  waste  of  Christian  resig- 
nation, does  n't  it  ?  " 

"  Paris  ?  "  said  the  Rector  with  animation. 
"  By  all  means  go  to  Paris,  —  the  most  delight- 
ful place  in  the  world !  When  I  was  a  boy 
in  Paris  —  Dear,  dear,  how  it  all  comes  back 
to  me  !  That  was  before  I  was  ordained,  to 
be  sure ;  ah,  those  were  days  to  be  remem- 
bered !  I  can  give  you  an  introduction  to  a 
friend  of  mine  in  Paris,  Monsieur — Mon- 
sieur —  Ah,  it 's  gone  now.  But  I  can  tell 
you  the  names  of  all  his  books.  A  charming 
fellow ;  knew  everything  and  did  everything  ; 
there  was  nothing  too  daring  for  him  in  those 
days.  You  '11  get  on  with  him,  Kitty ;  the 
most  delightful  companion  a  man  could  have, 
in  fact ! "  The  old  Rector  was  laughing  like 
a  schoolboy  at  his  reminiscences. 

"  That 's  all  very  well,"  said  Katharine 
rather  cruelly ;  "  but  what  will  Aunt  Esther 
say  ?  " 

"Ah,"  said  the  Rector,  looking  about  him 
apprehensively,  "  there  is  certainly  Esther  to 
be  considered." 

"  Yes,  there  is  !  "  sighed  Katharine.  And 
326 


The   Making  of  a   Prig. 

she  added  impetuously,  "  Poor  daddy  !  what 
a  saint  you  must  have  been  all  these  years ! 
I  wonder  why  I  never  realised  it  before  ? " 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  the  Rector,  smiling.  "  I  'm 
nothing  but  an  old  fool,  who  was  never  fit  to 
have  a  daughter  at  all.  Your  mother  ought 
to  have  left  me  to  vegetate  among  my  books, 
bless  her  heart !  " 

Katharine  looked  at  him  reflectively. 

"  I  am  beginning  to  understand,"  she  said, 
in  her  quaint,  thoughtful  manner.  "  It  has 
puzzled  me  all  these  months,  but  you  have 
made  it  come  quite  clear  at  last.  I  see  now 
what  they  meant  by  calling  me  a  prig :  it  is 
because  I  have  none  of  the  qualities  that  would 
prevent  you  from  ever  becoming  one." 

"  A  prig  ?  "  said  her  father  inquiringly. 

"  Ah,"  said  Katharine,  "  it  is  something  of 
too  modern  a  growth  to  have  come  within 
your  ken."  She  slipped  off  her  seat,  and 
began  pacing  restlessly  up  and  down  the  room. 

"  A  prig,"  she  continued,  more  to  herself 
than  to  her  father,  who  was  watching  her  nar- 
rowly nevertheless,  "  a  prig  is  one  who  tries 
to  break  what  the  ordinary  person  is  pleased 
to  call  the  law  of  Nature,  and  to  substitute  the 
law  of  his  own  reason  instead.  It  does  n't 
matter  that  this  is  what  we  are  brought  up  to 
327 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

do,  for  the  ordinary  person  insists  on  our 
forgetting  that  we  are  intelligent  beings,  and 
only  wants  us  to  run  in  the  same  rut  as  him- 
self. And  the  ordinary  person  is  very  happy, 
so  perhaps  he  is  right.  Education  makes  us 
all  prigs,  and  we  have  to  sit  and  wait  for  the 
particular  experience  that  is  to  undo  the  effects 
of  our  education.  It  is  great  waste  of  time  to 
be  educated,  is  n't  it  ?  We  are  told  that  it  is 
priggish  to  have  ideals,  and  that  is  why  being 
young  is  generally  equivalent  to  being  prig- 
gish. The  world  won't  tolerate  ideals ;  it 
sneers  at  us  for  trying  to  find  out  new  ways 
of  being  good,  and  it  likes  to  see  us  for  ever 
grubbing  among  the  same  old  ways  of  being 
bad.  Did  you  know  all  this  before,  daddy  ? 
But  you  never  told  me,  did  you  ?  Do  parents 
ever  tell  their  children  anything  useful,  I  won- 
der ?  Oh,  I  don't  think  so  ;  we  just  have  to 
go  on  until  we  find  it  all  out,  and  break  our 
hearts  over  it,  most  likely  !  "  She  paused  to 
give  a  little  bitter  laugh.  The  Rector  had  an 
intent  look  on  his  face  that  was  foreign  to  it. 
"  I  should  like  to  know,"  she  went  on,  more 
gently,  "  if  it  is  n't  possible  to  be  brave,  or 
steadfast,  or  true,  without  being  a  prig ;  it 
simply  means  that  we  have  got  to  go  on  trying 
to  be  better  than  we  are,  and  pretending  that 
328 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

we  don't  know  it  all  the  while.  It  is  such  an 
anomalous  position  for  a  thinking  person,  is  n't 
it  ?  And  yet,  if  we  are  honest  about  it  we 
proclaim  ourselves  prigs  at  once.  /  am  a 
prig,  daddy.  Did  you  know  that  too  ?  I 
have  gloried  all  my  life  in  being  above  the 
ordinary  littlenesses  of  womanhood  ;  and  then, 
when  my  hour  came,  I  just  learned  that  I  was 
the  same  old  woman  after  all.  I  was  proud 
of  knowing  so  much,  and  all  the  time  I  did 
not  know  what  every  ignorant  woman  in  the 
world  could  have  told  me.  Oh,  the  world  is 
right,  after  all ;  I  know  it !  But  it  has  such 
uncomfortable  ways  of  convincing  us,  has  n't 
it  ?  I  'm  not  bothering  you,  daddy,  am  I  ?  " 
She  stopped,  and  looked  at  him  anxiously. 
The  Rector  did  not  speak.  "  Nothing  will 
ever  make  you  a  prig,"  continued  Katharine 
as  she  resumed  her  restless  walk,  "  or  Ted 
either,  or  Marion  Keeley.  Lovable  people 
are  never  priggish,  are  they  ?  Oh,  I  am  never 
going  to  try  to  be  anything,  again.  I  shall 
become  as  much  like  the  ordinary  person  as  I 
can  ;  I  will  let  boys  like  Monty  make  love  to 
me,  and  pretend  that  I  like  it ;  I  will  let 
myself  go,  and  hide  away  my  old  feelings 
which  were  real  ones,  and  invent  a  whole  set 
of  new  ones  for  everyday  use.  Oh,  dear,  how 
329 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

absurd  it  all  is !  To  make  one's  life  a  long 
course  of  deception,  in  order  to  prove  to  the 
world  that  we  are  real !  And  yet,  that  is  the 
only  way  to  avoid  being  called  a  prig.  It  is 
ridiculous  to  pretend  that  we  care  for  what 
the  big  people  think  of  us.  We  don't.  It  is 
the  little,  commonplace,  ordinary  folk,  with  the 
commonplace  minds  and  the  commonplace 
views,  who  make  up  our  audience ;  and  we 
acknowledge  it  all  our  lives  by  being  afraid  of 
their  criticism.  We  play  to  them,  and  to  them 
only,  from  the  moment  we  begin  to  think  for 
ourselves,  until  Providence  is  good  enough  to 
ring  down  the  curtain.  We  make  a  wretched 
compromise  with  our  real  selves,  in  order  to 
get  through  life  without  being  laughed  at  for 
taking  it  seriously.  And  the  end  of  it  all  is 
that  we  have  to  suffer  our  own  contempt, 
instead  of  the  commonplace  person's.  But 
everybody  does  the  same,  so  it  must  be  right, 
must  n't  it  ?  Daddy,"  she  added  suddenly,  as 
she  came  to  a  standstill  before  him,  "  daddy,  do 
you  think,  if  I  don't  try  to  be  good  any  more, 
that  I  shall  ever  become  just  an  ordinary 
pleasant  person,  —  some  one  whom  people  will 
care  to  fall  in  love  with  ?  It  would  be  so 
comforting  to  feel  that  people  cared  to  fall  in 
love  with  me.  I  am  so  tired  of  being  thought 
330 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

clever  and  nothing  else  ;  cleverness  seems  like 
a  kind  of  blight  that  helps  one  to  miss  the 
biggest  thing  in  life.  At  least,  I  have  missed 
it,  and  everybody  says  I  am  clever.  Why 
don't  you  answer  me,  daddy  ?  Why,  daddy  ! 
I  —  I  do  believe  you  're  crying  !  " 

"  No,  my  child,  you  are  mistaken,"  said 
Cyril  Austen  hastily.  "  I  have  been  over- 
working my  eyes  lately,  that  is  all.  You 
must  n't  talk  like  that,  little  girl  ;  it  —  it  makes 
me  unhappy.  I  should  never  have  allowed 
you  to  go  away  by  yourself,  should  I  ?  I  'm  a 
useless  old  —  But  there,  it  is  too  late  now. 
Let  us  talk  about  this  Paris  plan  of  yours. 
What  if  I  were  to  come  too,  eh  ?  " 

"It  would  be  beautiful  !  "  cried  Katharine. 
"  But  there  is  still  Aunt  Esther,  is  n't  there  ?  " 

"  Ah,  yes  !  "  said  the  Rector  ruefully.  "  So 
stupid  of  me  to  forget !  " 

They  made  themselves  very  happy  for  a 
day  or  two  over  the  Paris  plan.  They  met 
like  guilty  conspirators  when  Miss  Esther  was 
out  of  the  way,  and  amused  themselves  by 
arranging  a  scheme  which  they  knew  quite 
well  she  would  never  allow  them  to  carry  out. 
Katharine's  spirits  recovered  something  of 
their  old  vigour;  and  Miss  Esther  felt  more 
bewildered  than  ever  when  she  suddenly  ap- 
33i 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

peared  in  this  new  mood,  and  refused  to  have 
anything  more  to  do  with  the  parish. 

"  I  am  tired  of  good  works,"  she  announced 
vigorously.  "  They  don't  answer,  and  they 
destroy  one's  self-respect.  Some  people  are 
cut  out  for  that  sort  of  thing,  but  I  am  not, 
and  I  am  going  to  leave  it  to  those  who  are. 
I  am  never  again  going  to  make  myself  uncom- 
fortable by  visiting  people  in  their  unpleasant 
homes.  I  don't  want  to  go,  for  one  thing ;  and 
it  is  n't  good  for  them  to  be  patronised,  for 
another.  Besides,  they  can't  refuse  to  see  me 
in  any  case,  and  I  don't  like  forcing  myself 
upon  people  in  that  uninvited  manner.  I  am 
going  to  be  happy  in  my  own  way,  and  that 
will  give  them  a  much  fairer  chance  of  being 
happy  in  theirs.  I  've  done  with  the  whole 
thing."  And  she  returned  cheerfully  to  the 
map  of  Paris. 

But  her  new-found  contentment  was  not  to 
be  allowed  a  long  duration.  A  letter  came  for 
her  a  few  days  later,  which  altered  the  whole 
aspect  of  affairs,  and  finally  quenched  the 
Paris  plan.  The  writing  was  unfamiliar  to 
her,  and  she  had  to  turn  to  the  end  of  the 
closely  written  pages  to  discover  who  had  sent 
it  to  her. 

"  Dear  Miss  Austen,"  it  ran  :  — 
332 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  It  may  be  a  matter  of  great  surprise  to  you  to  hear 
from  me  in  this  unexpected  manner.  Nothing  but 
the  deep  interest  I  feel  in  one  who  is,  I  have  reason 
to  believe,  as  great  a  friend  of  yours  as  of  mine  would 
give  me  the  courage  to  take  up  my  pen  and  write  to 
you.  I  have  for  some  time  past  been  observing  Ted's 
career  with  distress,  if  not  with  the  deepest  concern. 
You  probably  know  that  he  gave  up  his  work  in  the 
city  on  the  death  of  Mrs.  Morton,  so  I  will  not 
trouble  you  with  more  details  than  necessity  compels 
you  to  hear.  Of  course  you  will  understand  the  dif- 
fidence with  which  I  approach  you  on  so  delicate  a 
matter  ;  but  my  great  friendship,  or  what  I  might  call 
our  mutual  friendship,  for  Ted  Morton  has  given  me 
the  requisite  courage.  I  do  not  know  the  reason  for 
what  I  am  about  to  break  to  you  ;  in  fact,  to  be 
explicit,  I  have  not  the  slightest  idea  of  what  led  him 
to  take  such  a  step,  but  I  have  my  own  conjectures 
about  the  matter,  and  these  I  will  lay  before  you  as 
briefly  as  the  occasion  demands.  For  some  time 
past,  indeed,  I  may  say  for  months,  he  has  been  very 
depressed,  and  has  tried  to  drown  his  trouble,  what- 
ever it  might  be,  in  distractions  of  various  kinds.  Do 
not  for  one  moment  suppose  that  I  am  making  any 
insinuation  detrimental  to  Ted's  reputation  ;  far  from 
it!  But  there  is  no  doubt  that  he  has  grown  some- 
what reckless  in  disposition,  owing  possibly  to  this 
same  mysterious  trouble  of  his,  and  this  has  hurried 
on  the  crisis  which  it  is  now  my  business  to  com- 
municate to  you.  But  to  avoid  unnecessary  details, 
let  me  at  once  tell  you  in  plain  language  what  has 
333 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

happened  to  him.  Three  days  ago  I  met  him  in  the 
Strand  about  seven  o'clock,  and  asked  him  to  come 
and  dine  with  me.  He  refused,  with  none  of  the 
punctilious  courtesy  that  usually  characterises  him, 
and  I  left  him  thinking,  strange  as  it  might  seem,  that 
he  preferred  to  be  alone.  But  on  going  to  look  him 
up  at  his  chambers  last  night,  I  found  him  in  the  con- 
dition which  it  has  become  my  obvious  duty  to 
describe  to  you.  Fortunately,  the  ingenuous  disposi- 
tion, which  has  made  him  feel  his  trouble  much 
longer  than  most  men,  has  also  saved  him  from  this 
last  and  worst  step  of  all  ;  for,  in  his  ignorance,  he 
took  too  large  a  dose  of  laudanum,  and  the  effect  has 
mercifully  been  injurious  instead  of  fatal.  He  is 
now  —  " 

Katharine  read  no  more.  Nothing  further 
could  be  of  importance  after  she  had  learnt  so 
much.  Ted  had  tried  to  destroy  himself,  and 
it  was  on  her  account. 

"  Whatever  is  the  matter,  Katharine  ?  I 
have  asked  you  the  same  question  three  times," 
Miss  Esther  was  saying  crossly.  Katharine 
stared  at  her  in  reply,  with  large,  terrified  eyes. 
Her  aunt  repeated  her  question,  and  tried  to 
possess  herself  of  the  letter.  Katharine  came 
to  herself  with  a  start,  and  snatched  it  back 
again,  and  thrust  it  into  her  father's  hand. 

"  Read  it,  daddy,"  she  tried  to  say,  but  no 
sound  came ;  she  seemed  possessed  of  a  great 
334 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

horror  that  robbed  her  of  every  faculty.  The 
Rector  smoothed  out  the  letter  silently,  glanced 
at  the  florid  signature,  "  Harrington  Montague," 
and  began  to  read  it  without  waiting  to  put  on 
his  glasses.  Miss  Esther  looked  from  one  to 
the  other,  and  was  divided  between  her  curios- 
ity and  her  annoyance. 

"  Really,  Katharine,  you  are  quite  devoid  of 
manners.  Am  I  not  to  have  the  right  to  ask  a 
simple  question  in  my  own  house  ?  Who  is 
the  letter  from,  and  what  is  it  all  about  ?  " 

Dorcas  lingered  by  the  door  as  long  as  she 
dared,  under  pretence  of  being  wanted ;  but 
Miss  Esther,  who  never  relaxed  her  vigilance 
even  in  a  crisis,  detected  the  subterfuge  and 
ordered  her  sharply  out  of  the  room.  The 
accustomed  tone  of  reproof  helped  Katharine 
to  recover  herself.  She  drew  a  deep  breath, 
and  made  an  effort  to  speak. 

"  Ted  is  dying,"  she  said.  "  They  are  afraid 
to  tell  me,  but  I  know  it  is  so.  And  it  is  I 
who  have  killed  him,  //  I  am  going  to  him 
at  once." 

The  Rector  was  blinking  his  eyes  as  he  fin- 
ished reading  the  letter.  Miss  Esther  held  out 
her  hand  again. 

"  I  insist  upon  your  giving  me  that  letter, 
Cyril,"  she  said  in  her  discordant  voice. 
335 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

Katharine  struck  down  her  hand  fiercely.  Her 
numbness  was  giving  way  to  a  kind  of  passion- 
ate frenzy. 

"  Leave  it  alone,  Aunt  Esther  ! "  she  cried 
vehemently.  "  It  is  no  business  of  yours  ;  you 
don't  understand  ;  nobody  understands.  I  have 
made  Ted  take  his  life.  I  am  going  to  him 
now" 

The  last  sentence  was  the  only  one  that 
reached  Miss  Esther's  comprehension ;  she  at 
once  took  up  her  usual  attitude  of  disapproval. 

"  Indeed,  Katharine,  you  will  do  nothing  of 
the  kind,"  she  exclaimed  querulously.  "  What 
are  we  coming  to  next,  I  wonder  ?  I  sincerely 
trust,  Cyril,  that  you  will  point  out  to  your 
daughter  that  it  is  quite  impossible  for  her  to 
visit  a  young  man  in  his  chambers.  I  really 
wish  that  tiresome  young  Edward  would  em- 
igrate, or  marry,  or  do  something  that  would 
put  him  out  of  the  way.  What  has  he  been 
doing  now,  I  wonder  ?  " 

Katharine  paid  no  heed  ;  her  eyes  were  fixed 
feverishly  on  her  father's  face. 

"  Ted  is  ill,  and  he  wants  me.  You  will 
let  me  go,  daddy,  won't  you  ? "  she  said 
imploringly. 

"  I  beg  you  to  assert  your  authority,  Cyril, 
by  forbidding  such  a  mad  piece  of  folly,"  cried 
336 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

the  shrill  tones  of  Miss  Esther.  Katharine 
turned  upon  her  furiously. 

"  Touy  what  can  you  know  about  it  ?  You 
have  never  known  what  it  is  to  want  to  protect 
some  one  ;  you  don't  know  the  awful  empti- 
ness of  having  no  one  to  care  for.  Daddy ! 
you  understand,  don't  you  ?  I  may  go, 
mayn't  I?" 

The  Rector  glanced  from  one  to  the  other. 
He  had  not  put  on  his  glasses,  but  he  did  not 
seem  to  want  them  just  then.  Slowly  the 
tyranny  of  twenty  years  was  losing  its  terrors 
for  him  ;  he  even  forgot  to  laugh  nervously  as 
the  two  women  stood  awaiting  his  answer  ;  and 
although  there  was  a  smile  on  his  face  as  he 
looked  at  them,  it  had  only  been  called  there 
by  a  reflection  on  his  folly  in  the  past.  He 
marvelled  at  himself,  as  his  eyes  rested  on  the 
glowing  features  of  his  daughter,  for  ever  having 
hesitated  to  support  her. 

"  The  child  is  in  the  right,  Esther,"  he  said, 
mildly.  "I  —  I  am  fond  of  the  dear  boy 
myself,  and  he  must  not  be  left  in  the  hour  of 
his  need.  We  will  go  together,  eh,  Kitty?" 

Miss    Esther  stared  at    him    dumbly.     She 

had   never   heard   him  speak  like   that  before. 

After   all,    nothing   is    so    convincing   as    the 

sudden  assumption  of  power  by  the  oppressed ; 

22  337 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

and  few  things  are  more  complete  than  the 
humiliation  of  the  oppressor. 

"  Let  me  see,"  continued  the  Rector  :  "  we 
cannot  catch  anything  before  the  1.28.  That 
will  give  us  time  for  an  early  lunch,  if  you  will 
kindly  see  to  it,  Esther.  Kitty,  my  child,  do 
not  fret  over  the  boy  ;  we  will  soon  put  him 
to  rights,  eh  ?  " 

Katharine  remained  immovable,  with  Monty's 
letter  crunched  in  her  hand.  "  Ted  has  tried 
to  kill  himself —  for  me"  were  the  words  that 
ran  remorselessly  in  her  mind. 

Cyril  Austen  walked  out  of  the  room  with 
a  firm  step.  Miss  Esther  rattled  her  keys, 
muttered  something  to  herself,  and  followed 
him  almost  immediately. 

She  was  dethroned  at  last. 


338 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

THE  landlady  had  gone  out  of  the  room  and 
closed  the  door.  Katharine  stepped  softly  to 
the  side  of  the  bed,  and  looked  at  the  sleeping 
face.  It  was  just  the  same  as  she  had  always 
known  it,  rounded  and  beardless,  without  a 
line  or  a  wrinkle,  and  with  the  hair  as  loose  and 
rumpled  as  it  had  been  in  the  days  before 
manhood  had  claimed  its  submission.  "  Dear 
old  Ted,"  she  murmured  to  herself  with  a 
half  smile,  "  I  don't  believe  he  could  look  ill, 
however  much  he  tried."  She  stole  about  the 
room,  putting  flowers  in  the  vases,  and  lighten- 
ing some  of  its  London  dinginess,  until  the 
sound  of  her  name  brought  her  back  again  to 
the  bedside. 

"  Dear  old  man,  don't  look  so  scared,"  she 
laughed.  "  We  heard  you  were  ill,  and  we 
came  up  to  look  after  you,  daddy  and  I. 
Daddy  is  still  downstairs ;  he  discovered  an 
old  print  in  the  hall,  and  he  has  n't  got  any 
further  yet.  There  are  a  lot  of  old  prints  in 
the  hall,  so  I  suppose  it  will  be  ever  so  long 
339 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

before  he  does  get  any  further.  Is  n't  it  like 
daddy  ? " 

She  smoothed  his  hair  gently,  and  he  laughed 
contentedly  in  reply.  He  did  not  seem  at  all 
surprised  to  see  her;  Kitty  always  had  turned 
up,  all  his  life,  when  he  had  got  himself  into  a 
scrape ;  and  it  did  not  occur  to  him  at  the 
moment  that  she  was  more  or  less  answerable 
for  his  present  scrape. 

"  Just  see  how  hit  up  I  am  !  "  he  said.  "  So 
poor,  is  n't  it  ?  " 

Her  face  clouded. 

"  Oh,  Ted,  how  could  you  do  it  ?  Ought  I 
to  have  stayed  in  London  and  looked  after 
you  ? "  she  said  reproachfully ;  and  he  saw 
that  it  was  useless  to  try  to  conceal  anything 
from  her. 

"  It 's  all  right,  Kit,"  he  hastened  to  explain  in 
his  humble  manner.  "  Don't  swear,  old  chum  ! 
I  could  n't  help  it,  on  my  honour  I  could  n't. 
I  got  so  sick,  and  I  just  had  to.  And  after 
all  I  played  so  poorly,  you  see,  that  it  did  n't 
come  off." 

Except  for  the  subject  of  their  conversation, 
they  might  have  been  back  again  in  the  lanes 
at  Ivingdon.  They  had  dropped  naturally 
into  their  old  boy  and  girl  attitude,  and  hers 
was  as  before  the  stronger  personality.  But 
340 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

there  was  a  subtle  difference  in  their  relations 
which  she  was  the  first  to  feel. 

"I  —  I  am  glad  it  did  n't  come  off,  Ted," 
she  said,  trying  to  speak  lightly.  Ted  gripped 
her  hand  for  a  moment,  and  then  let  it  go 
again,  as  though  he  were  half  ashamed  of  his 
momentary  show  of  sentiment. 

"  You  see,"  he  went  on,  in  a  very  gruff 
voice,  "  that  was  the  only  part  I  left  to 
Providence,  and  Providence  muffed  it.  I  'm 
such  a  rotten  ass,  —  I  always  was,  don't  you 
know?  If  it  had  been  you,  now,  you  would  n't 
have  bungled  it  at  all,  would  you  ?  " 

"Providence  never  has  any  sense  of  humour," 
said  Katharine;  and  she  got  up .  hurriedly,  so 
that  he  should  not  see  her  face.  She  poured 
out  some  medicine,  and  brought  it  to  him. 

"  I  say,  it 's  awfully  ripping  to  have  you  to 
look  after  me  like  this,"  he  observed.  "  What 
did  Miss  Esther  say  ?  " 

"  She  seemed  upset,"  said  Katharine,  smil- 
ing slightly.  "  But  you  can  always  square 
Aunt  Esther,  when  it 's  a  question  of  illness  ; 
there  are  such  a  lot  of  texts  in  the  Bible  about 
illness,  don't  you  know  ?  By  the  way,  when 
did  you  last  have  something  to  eat  ?  " 

Ted  had  no  idea,  beyond  a  vague  notion 
that  some  one  had  brought  him  something  on 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

a  tray  in  the  morning,  which  he  had  not 
looked  at.  So  she  left  him  to  interview  the 
landlady,  whom  she  found  in  the  middle  of  a 
long  history  of  the  print  in  the  hall  and  of 
the  part  it  had  played  in  the  history  of  her 
own  family  as  well,  to  which  the  Rector  was 
listening  patiently  though  with  obvious  inat- 
tention. Katharine  managed  to  procure  what 
she  wanted,  and  returned  with  it  to  the  sick 
room.  The  invalid  was  looking  more  flour- 
ishing than  ever. 

"  You  see,"  he  explained,  between  the  spoon- 
fuls with  which  she  fed  him,  "  he  's  such  an 
awfully  snide  doctor.  He  won't  let  me  get 
up,  and  of  course,  I  'm  as  right  as  rain,  really. 
So  cheap  of  him,  is  n't  it  ?  " 

In  spite  of  his  assertion,  however,  he  was 
very  glad  to  play  the  invalid  when  she 
brought  him  some  warm  water,  and  proceeded 
to  bathe  his  hands  and  face.  It  was  pleasant, 
after  the  desolation  of  his  life  for  the  past  six 
months,  to  lie  back  in  a  lazy  attitude  without 
feeling  particularly  ill,  and  allow  the  girl  he 
liked  best  in  the  world  to  do  things  for  him. 

"  It 's    so    rum,"    he    remarked,    "  that    our 

hands  never  wear  out  with    being   washed  so 

often.     I    can't    think    why    they    don't    want 

soling  and   heeling  after   a  time,  like   boots." 

342 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

c<  I  think  you  are  right,  and  that  your  doc- 
tor is  rather  c  snide,'  "  was  all  Katharine  said,  as 
she  carried  away  the  basin,  and  looked  for  his 
hair  brushes.  Ted's  toilet  table  was  charac- 
terised by  a  luxurious  confusion,  and  she 
lingered  for  a  moment  to  arrange  the  silver- 
topped  bottles  in  some  kind  of  order.  "  You 
never  used  to  care  for  this  sort  of  thing,"  she 
remarked,  holding  up  a  bottle  of  eau  de  toilette  ; 
"  I  remember  how  you  teased  me  once,  when  I 
told  you  I  put  lavender  water  in  my  cold  bath." 

"  Oh,  well,  of  course  it 's  beastly  rot  and 
all  that,"  owned  Ted ;  "  but  it 's  the  thing 
to  do,  and  one  must,  don't  you  know  ? 
Hullo,  what  are  you  playing  at  now?" 

"  I  wish  you  would  not  be  quite  so  lan- 
guid," retorted  Katharine.  "  How  am  I  to 
brush  your  hair  if  you  persist  in  behaving  as 
though  you  were  dying  ?  I  believe  you  are 
putting  it  on." 

"  It 's  not  my  fault  if  I  'm  not  so  beastly 
energetic  as  you,"  grumbled  Ted.  "  Don't 
play  about  any  more,  Kit ;  come  over  here 
and  talk.  And  you  need  n't  fold  up  those 
towels  ;  they  're  not  used  to  it,  really." 

"  I  should  n't  think  they  were,  from  the 
look  of  them.  Well,  what  have  I  got  to  talk 
about?" 

343 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

She  came  and  sat  down  on  the  chair  by  his 
side,  and  he  shifted  his  position  so  that  he 
could  see  her  face.  She  could  have  laughed 
aloud  at  his  expression  of  utter  contentment. 

"  Oh,  some  rot;  anything  you  like.  You  've 
always  got  lots  to  gas  about,  have  n't  you  ? 
How  is  Ivingdon,  and  the  Grange ;  and  does 
Peter  Bunce  still  come  in  on  Sunday  after- 
noons ;  and  has  the  doctor  got  any  new  dogs  ? 
Fire  ahead,  Kit !  you  Ve  been  down  there 
doing  nothing  all  this  time,  and  you  must 
know  all  there  is  to  know,  unless  you  're  as 
half  alive  as  you  used  to  be.  Has  n't  any- 
thing happened  to  the  old  place  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Katharine,  smiling  back  at  him 
frankly.  "  They  have  mended  the  gap  in  the 
hedge." 

"  The  devil  they  have  !  "  cried  Ted.  "  We'll 
have  it  broken  open  again  at  once,  won't  we  ? 
Why  did  n't  you  stop  them  ?  You  knew  I 
was  n't  there  to  tell  them  myself.  Just  like 
their  confounded  impertinence  !  " 

"  Hush,"  interrupted  Katharine.  "  You 
must  n't  get  excited,  old  man ;  it  is  n't  good 
for  you." 

She  smoothed  his  pillows  and  arranged  his 
coverlet  with  nervous  rapidity,  and  Ted,  sub- 
mitting happily  to  her  services,  wondered  in- 
344 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

nocently  what  she  was  blushing  about.  But 
he  did  not  trouble  himself  to  find  out. 

"  I  am  beastly  glad  I  poisoned  myself,"  he 
murmured,  with  lazy  satisfaction. 

She  was  glad  of  the  diversion  when  the 
Rector  arrived  at  last,  and  she  was  allowed  to 
escape  into  the  next  room. 

"  Well,  my  boy,  and  how  has  the  world 
gone  with  you  ? "  she  heard  her  father  say  in 
his  genial  tones. 

"  It 's  a  beastly  jolly  world,  and  I  'm  the 
jolliest  brute  in  it,"  was  Ted's  reply. 

They  took  rooms  in  the  next  street,  and 
came  in  every  day  to  look  after  him ;  and 
when  neither  the  conscience  of  the  "  snide  " 
doctor,  nor  the  desire  of  the  invalid  to  be 
nursed  proved  sufficient  to  preserve  the  farce 
of  his  illness  any  longer,  they  still  lingered 
on  under  pretence  of  being  wanted,  and  sent 
carefully  worded  letters  to  Miss  Esther  from 
which  she  was  forced  to  conclude  that  their 
presence  in  town  was  urgently  required,  much 
as  they  would  have  wished  it  otherwise.  What 
really  happened  was,  that  Ted  and  Katharine 
regularly  conducted  the  old  Rector  to  the  Brit- 
ish Museum  every  morning,  and  passed  the 
day  alone  together  until  it  was  time  to  fetch 
him  away  again  in  the  afternoon.  And  in 
345 


The   Making   of  a  Prig 

the  evenings  they  initiated  him  into  the  joys 
of  a  music  hall,  or  introduced  him  to  a  new 
comedian  ;  and  the  Rector  was  happier  than 
he  had  ever  been  since  the  well-remembered 
days  in  Paris.  As  for  Katharine,  her  feelings 
defied  her  own  powers  of  description  ;  she  only 
knew  that  she  had  the  sensation  of  waking  up 
from  a  long,  bad  dream.  Perhaps  Ted  felt 
the  same.  "  You  Ve  cured  the  biggest  hump 
I  ever  had  in  my  life,"  was  the  way  he  ex- 
pressed it. 

Looking  back  on  the  even  tenor  of  those 
few  weeks,  afterwards,  Katharine  was  at  a  loss 
to  remember  what  she  had  talked  about  to 
Ted  in  the  many  hours  they  had  spent  to- 
gether. Perhaps  they  had  not  talked  at  all ; 
at  the  time  it  never  seemed  to  matter  whether 
they  did  or  not ;  at  all  events,  their  conversa- 
tion usually  lacked  the  personal  element  that 
alone  makes  conversation  distinctive.  There 
was  nothing  surprising  to  Katharine  in  this : 
as  long  as  she  could  remember  Ted  had  been 
the  one  person  in  the  world  to  whom  it  was 
impossible  to  talk  about  one's  self;  and  his 
sympathy  for  her  was  as  completely  superficial 
as  her  love  for  him  was  mainly  protective. 

Once  or  twice  she  was  led  inadvertently  into 
making  a  confidant  of  him. 
346 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  I  wonder  why  I  never  seem  to  feel  things 
acutely  now,"  she  said  to  him  one  day  as 
they  were  strolling  along  the  Embankment. 
"  I  don't  seem  to  care  a  bit  what  happens  next, 
except  that  I  have  a  sort  of  conviction  it  is 
going  to  be  pleasant.  I  seem  to  want  wak- 
ing up  again.  Do  you  know  what  I  mean, 
Ted  ?  " 

"  Oh,  it 's  nothing  ;  you  're  feeling  played, 
that 's  all,"  answered  Ted,  reassuringly.  "  My 
experience  is  that  you  're  either  played,  or 
you  're  not  played ;  and  when  you  are,  you  'd 
better  have  a  drink  to  buck  you  up.  We  '11 
have  a  cab,  and  lunch  somewhere.  Where 
shall  we  go  to-day  ?  " 

And  Katharine  laughed  at  his  practical  view 
of  things,  and  wondered  why  she  had  expected 
him  to  understand.  Another  time,  it  was  Ted 
himself  who  gave  the  conversation  a  personal 
turn. 

"  Humps  are  deuced  odd  things,"  he  ob- 
served, rather  suddenly.  It  was  a  dull,  warm 
afternoon  in  December,  and  they  had  been 
sitting  idly  for  some  minutes  on  one  of  the 
benches  in  the  park,  overlooking  the  Serpen- 
tine. "  You  feel  that  everything  is  awfully 
decent,  and  bills  be  hanged,  and  all  that;  and 
you  curse  your  tailor  and  have  a  good  time, 
347 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

and  it  does  n't  matter  if  it  snows.  And  then, 
when  it 's  rather  a  bore  to  be  under  an  obli- 
gation to  a  rotten  little  tradesman,  or  you 
want  a  new  coat  or  something,  and  you  pay 
up  and  feel  awfully  virtuous  and  don't  owe  a 
blessed  halfpenny  in  the  world,  except  for 
shirts  and  things  that  never  expect  to  be  paid 
for,  —  then,  you  go  and  get  the  very  deuce  of 
a  hump." 

"Whole  books  might  be  written  on  the 
psychological  aspect  of  the  hump,"  murmured 
Katharine. 

"  Look  at  those  bounders,  now,"  said  Ted, 
who  had  not  heard  her.  "  It  does  n't  matter 
to  them  that  rowing  on  the  Serpentine  on 
Saturday  afternoon  is  n't  the  thing  to  do,  espe- 
cially in  frock  coats  and  bowlers.  It  makes 
one  quite  sorry  for  them,  to  see  how  little 
they  know ;  they  don't  even  know  they  are 
bounders,  poor  devils  !  But  they  never  get 
the  hump,  confound  them  !  " 

"  All  the  same,"  said  Katharine,  "  it  is  a  big 
price  to  pay  for  an  immunity  from  humps, 
is  n't  it  ?  " 

"  Life    must  be    awfully   easy,    if  you  're  a 

bounder,"    continued    Ted.       "  You    have  n't 

got   to   be   in  good  form,   and  you  can  walk 

about  with  any  sort  of  girl  you  please,  and  you 

348 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

need  n't  worry  about  the  shape  of  your  hat, 
and  it  does  n't  matter  if  you  are  seen  on  a 
green  Brixton  'bus.  It  saves  so  much  think- 
ing, does  n't  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Katharine.  "  But  you  have  to 
be  a  bounder  all  the  same,  and  you  know  you 
can't  even  contemplate  such  a  possibility,  or 
impossibility,  without  shuddering.  By  the 
way,  is  all  this  intended  to  convey  that  you 
have  got  the  hump  this  afternoon  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Ted,  with  restored  cheerful- 
ness. "  I  ought  never  to  have  been  born,  of 
course  ;  but  that 's  quite  another  matter." 

Late  that  evening  the  Rector  proposed  re- 
turning to  Ivingdon.  They  had.  just  been 
to  the  theatre,  and  Ted  had  asked  them  in 
to  supper  afterwards.  Every  trace  of  his 
mood  of  that  afternoon  had  disappeared,  and 
he  was  wrangling  with  Katharine  over  the 
strength  of  the  Rector's  toddy  with  all  the 
energy  of  which  his  languid  nature  was  capa- 
ble. Katharine  put  down  the  tumbler  she 
was  holding  and  looked  swiftly  round  at  her 
father. 

"  Oh,  daddy,  not  yet ! "  she  cried  impetuously. 

"  I   am    happy  now  ;  don't  let  us  spoil  it  all 

by  going  home.     I  feel  as  though  something 

horrible  would  happen  if  we  went  home  now. 

349 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

Can't  we  wait  a  little  longer?  I  have  never 
been  happy  like  this  before." 

The  Rector  murmured  something  about  its 
being  three  weeks  to  Christmas,  but  his  sense 
of  duty  was  obviously  a  perfunctory  one,  and 
he  soon  found  he  was  not  being  listened  to. 
And  Ted's  hand  closed  over  her  ringers  as  he 
took  the  hot  glass  from  her,  and  his  face 
shone  with  pleasure  and  his  voice  trembled, 
as  he  whispered,  "  Thank  you  for  that,  dear." 

She  did  not  shrink  from  him  as  she  had 
done  once  before  when  he  had  looked  at  her 
with  that  same  eager  expression  in  his  eyes. 

"  I  don't  know  a  bit  whether  I  love  him  in 
the  real  way,"  she  told  her  mirror  that  night. 
"  I  don't  know  anything  about  myself  at  all. 
I  believe  the  prig  is  inborn  in  me,  after  all,  and 
that  it  would  suit  me  far  better  to  fight  for  a 
living  in  the  world,  than  to  stay  at  home  and 
just  make  Ted  happy.  But  all  the  same,  if  he 
asks  me  again  I  shall  marry  him.  It  has 
been  so  peaceful  lately,  and  I  have  felt  so 
happy,  and  marriage  with  Ted  will  mean  peace 
if  it  does  n't  mean  anything  more  thrilling  than 
that.  Dear  old  Ted ;  why  is  n't  he  my 
brother,  or  my  son,  or  some  one  I  could 
just  mother,  and  go  on  living  my  own  life  the 
while  ?  Ah,  well,  he  is  going  to  be  my  hus- 
350 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

band  ;  how  strange  it  sounds !  I  wonder  if 
women  like  me  are  ever  allowed  to  be  happy 
in  their  own  way,  gloriously  and  completely 
happy  as  I  know  I  could  be  ?  But  I  suppose 
it  is  only  the  prig  in  me  that  thinks  so.  And 
Ted  shall  never  know  that  I  want  more  than 
he  can  possibly  give  me.  Oh,  Ted,  old  chum, 
I  do  love  you  so  for  loving  me  !  " 

A  visit  to  Queen's  Crescent  slightly  un- 
settled her.  She  took  her  father  with  her  and 
introduced  him  to  Phyllis  Hyam,  and  tried  to 
convince  herself  that  she  was  glad  she  was  not 
coming  back  any  more  ;  but  in  spite  of  the 
unfamiliarity  of  being  there  as  a  visitor,  and 
the  difficulty  of  finding  topics  of  conversation 
for  the  Rector  and  Miss  Jennings,  who  ob- 
viously misunderstood  each  other's  attempts 
to  be  friendly,  the  sight  of  the  dingy  little  hall 
and  of  Phyllis's  round,  good-humoured  face, 
brought  enough  reminiscences  to  her  mind  to 
make  her  a  little  regretful  as  well. 

"  Do  you  still  have  bread  and  treacle,  and 
is  Polly  Newland  glad  I  have  gone,  and  does 
any  one  ever  talk  about  me  ?  "  she  asked  with 
interest.  Even  Phyllis  looked  strange,  as 
though  her  best  dress  had  been  thrown  on 

o 

hurriedly  and  the  distinction  of  being  admitted 
to  "  Jenny's  "  room  were  rather  too  much  for 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

her ;  but  there  was  a  familiarity  about  her  style 
of  conversation  that  was  consoling. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  replied  in  her  off-hand  way  ; 
"  when  we  have  a  new  one  put  into  our  room 
we  always  remember  how  blue  you  looked  the 
first  night  you  came.  We  have  n't  had  a  £  per- 
manent '  in  our  room  since  you  left ;  and 
there  have  been  some  cheerful  specimens,  too ! 
One  was  a  nurse,  who  made  the  place  smell 
eternally  of  disinfectants ;  and  another  kept 
bits  of  food  in  her  drawer,  and  encouraged 
mice ;  and  a  third  insisted  on  having  the  win- 
dow shut.  The  curtains  have  n't  been  washed, 
either,  since  you  made  that  row  about  them. 
I  say,  when  are  you  coming  back  again  ? " 

"  You  don't  offer  much  inducement,"  laughed 
Katharine.  "  But  I  am  not  coming  back,  in 
any  case." 

"  Going  to  get  married  ? "  asked  Phyllis 
sharply.  Katharine  smiled,  and  did  not  contra- 
dict her.  It  was  not  an  insinuation  that  one 
would  be  anxious  to  contradict  in  a  place  like 
Queen's  Crescent,  however  diffident  one  might 
feel  about  it  elsewhere.  Phyllis  shrugged  her 
shoulders.  "  Well,  don't  go  and  make  a  hash 
of  it,"  she  said.  "  You  're  not  the  sort  to  be 
happy  with  any  one,  especially  if  it 's  made 
too  easy  for  you.  Well  off?  Of  course  ;  and 
352 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

worships  the  ground  you  tread  on,  I  suppose  ! 
Oh,  well,  it 's  none  of  my  business,  and  I  only 
hope  you  haven't  made  a  mistake.  It's  a 
risky  thing  at  the  best;  and  you  were  very 
happy  here  most  of  the  time,  and  you  Ve  got 
to  better  that,  you  know.  I  wish  you  luck, 
I  'm  sure,  but  it  takes  a  woman  to  understand 
any  one  like  you,  and  I  should  like  to  see  the 
man  who  thinks  he  does  it  as  well." 

"  I  hope  you  will  some  day,"  said  Katharine, 
politely.  But  Phyllis  did  not  respond  with 
any  warmth,  and  Katharine  was  glad  to  return 
to  the  masculine  indifference  of  Ted.  It  was 
difficult  to  worry  about  the  future  in  Ted's 
company ;  even  the  fact  that  he  had  not  yet 
formally  proposed  to  her  did  not  seem  to  cause 
him  any  anxiety.  It  certainly  made  no  dif- 
ference in  the  freedom  of  their  intercourse  ;  and, 
as  long  as  there  was  no  immediate  necessity 
for  action,  Ted  was  not  the  one  to  take  the 
initiative.  "  I  believe  I  shall  have  to  propose 
to  him  myself,"  was  the  thought  that  some- 
times crossed  her  mind  as  she  studied  his 
placid,  good-looking  face.  But  after  her  visit 
to  Queen's  Crescent,  she  began  to  wish  he 
would  not  be  quite  so  casual  about  it ;  for, 
without  allowing  even  to  herself  that  Phyllis's 
want  of  encouragement  had  in  any  way  affected 
23  353 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

her  decision,  she  had  a  lingering  feeling  that 
the  present  state  of  things  could  not  go  on  for 
ever,  and  that  it  would  be  better  for  her,  at  all 
events,  to  have  the  matter  definitely  settled. 
So  she  made  a  kind  of  attempt,  a  day  or  two 
later,  to  rouse  his  apprehensions. 

"  Phyllis  was  wondering  if  I  was  ever  com- 
ing back  again  to  my  work,"  she  said  to  him 
abruptly. 

"  Oh,  was  she  ?  Rather  a  nice  girl,  Phyllis, 
if  she  did  n't  dress  so  badly,"  observed  Ted 
unconsciousjy.  They  were  at  a  Wagner  con- 
cert in  the  Queen's  Hall,  and  the  Siegfried 
Idyll  had  just  drawn  to  a  close.  It  seemed  to 
her  an  auspicious  moment. 

"  I  said  I  was  never  coming  back,"  pursued 
Katharine,  studying  his  profile  critically. 

"Of  course  not,"  said  Ted,  humming  the 
refrain  they  had  just  heard. 

For  once,  Katharine  felt  faintly  annoyed 
with  him  for  his  want  of  proper  sentiment. 

"  I  don't  believe  you  care  whether  I  do  or 
not,"  she  said  in  a  piqued  tone. 

"  Eh,  what  ?  "  said  Ted,  staring  round  at  her 
in  blank  amazement.  "  Ought  I  to  have  said 
anything  else  ?  But  you  settled  that  long  ago, 
Kit,  did  n't  you  ?  There  is  nothing  more  to 
be  said  about  it,  is  there  ? " 
354 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

"  Oh,  no,  of  course  not,"  said  Katharine,  in 
what  seemed  to  him  a  most  unreasonable  man- 
ner ;  "  but  all  the  same,  I  'm  not  at  all  sure 
that  I  sha'n't  go  back  when  the  term  begins 
again." 

Ted  stared  more  than  ever. 

"  Oh,  rats  ! "  he  exclaimed,  heartily.  "  What's 
wrong,  Kitty  ?  Have  you  been  hit  up  to-day, 
or  anything  ?  I  'm  such  a  rotten  ass,  I  never 
know.  Of  course  you  're  never  going  to  grind 
any  more  ;  what  an  idea  !  " 

"  Why  not  ?  "  asked  Katharine,  with  uncom- 
fortable persistence.  Ted  began  to  make  fresh 
assertions,  but  paused  in  the  middle  and  hesi- 
tated. He  suddenly  realised  that,  there  was 
only  one  answer  to  her  question,  and  that  he 
would  have  to  make  it  now.  He  looked 
down  and  made  havoc  with  his  programme, 
and  stammered  hopelessly  until  Katharine 
took  pity  on  him  and  came  to  his  assistance 
with  a  laugh. 

"  It 's  all  right,  old  man  ;  I  am  never  going 
back,  of  course,"  she  said  ;  and  Ted  brightened 
up  again  when  he  found  that  he  need  not  pro- 
pose to  her  yet,  and  was  obviously  relieved  at 
the  establishment  of  their  old  relations.  She 
did  nothing  more  to  change  them,  and  the  only 
result  of  her  abortive  attempt  was,  that  Ted 
355 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

was  more  attentive  to  her  than  before,  and  con- 
stantly made  little  plans  for  taking  her  to  some 
unfrequented  museum  or  picture  gallery,  evi- 
dently with  some  design  in  his  mind  which  he 
had  not  the  courage  to  carry  out. 

"  Poor  old  Ted,"  she  thought  to  herself, 
after  they  had  spent  a  dull  and  silent  afternoon 
at  the  Royal  Institute  among  the  colonial  pro- 
duce ;  "  I  wonder  if  he  will  ever  get  it  out !  " 

Curiously  enough,  through  all  the  weeks  she 
spent  in  town,  the  thought  of  Paul  Wilton 
rarely  crossed  her  mind ;  and  when  it  did  she 
felt  that  it  referred  to  some  former  life  of  hers, 
with  which  this  present  calm  existence  had  no 
connection.  Sometimes  she  wondered  idly 
whether  he  were  married  yet,  and  if  so,  whether 
he  ever  gave  a  thought  to  her  ;  but  she  could 
think  of  Marion  as  his  wife  without  a  regret, 
and  she  was  glad  to  find  that  she  had  no 
desire  whatever  to  see  him  again.  The  im- 
pression he  seemed  to  have  left  in  her  mind, 
after  all  these  months,  was  that  of  a  disturbing 
element  which  had  brought  the  greatest  unhap- 
piness  into  her  life  she  had  ever  been  forced 
to  endure.  It  was  inconsequent,  perhaps,  that, 
thinking  thus,  she  should  have  been  emphatic 
in  her  refusal  to  go  and  see  the  Keeleys ;  but 
although  she  was  incapable  of  explaining  why 
356 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

she  felt  so  strongly  about  such  a  small  matter, 
she  was  at  least  genuine  in  her  belief  that  he 
had  no  further  place  in  her  thoughts. 

And  then,  two  days  before  they  left  town, 
she  met  him  at  last. 

It  was  in  Bury  Street,  late  on  a  foggy  after- 
noon, as  she  was  on  her  way  to  the  Museum 
with  Ted.  She  had  stopped  with  an  exclama- 
tion of  delight  in  front  of  an  old  book  shop, 
and  the  owner,  who  was  talking  to  an  intending 
purchaser  inside,  came  out  good-naturedly  and 
offered  to  light  the  gas  jet  over  the  tray  of 
dusty  volumes.  "  I  shall  have  to  stop  now," 
whispered  Katharine ;  "  supposing  you  go  on 
for  daddy  and  bring  him  back  here  ?  " 

The  light  flared  up,  and  made  a  bright  semi- 
circle  in   the   gloom   that  was  fast  closing  up 
round  the  shop.     The  customer  who  was  in- 
side concluded  his  purchase,  and  came  out  just 
as  Ted  was  strolling  off.     Apparently  they  did 
not  see  each  other,  and  the  fog  soon  swallowed 
up  the  retreating  form ;  but  Katharine  turned 
round   at  this  moment   from  the  book  she  was 
examining,  and  met  the  stranger  face  to  face. 
"  Ah,"  he  said,  quietly  ;  "  at  last !  " 
"  Yes,"  she  repeated  ;  "  at  last !  " 
It  did  not  strike  her  until   afterwards   that 
it  was   not  at  all   the  mode   of  address  with 
357 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

which  she  would  have  greeted  him  had  she 
been  more  prepared  ;  but  at  the  time  it  came 
quite  naturally  to  her  lips.  He  still  held  her 
hand  as  he  went  on  speaking. 

"  And  Ted  ?  Where  have  you  sent  him  ? 
Will  he  be  long?" 

She  resented  the  implication  in  his  words. 

"  I  have  not  sent  him  anywhere.  He  has 
gone  to  fetch  my  father  from  the  Museum ; 
they  will  be  back  directly.  Do  you  mean  to 
say  you  recognised  Ted  in  that  instant  ? 

"  Why,  surely  !  Did  you  not  recognise  me, 
although  I  was  standing  back  there  in  the 
shadow  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  did  n't,"  cried  Katharine  hotly, 
as  she  pulled  away  her  hand.  "  I  never  saw 
you  until  you  came  out  into  the  light.  I 
should  have  stopped  Ted  if  I  had." 

"  Oh,  to  be  sure ;  pardon  my  mistake.  Of 
course  you  would  have  detained  Ted  in  that 
case."  And  he  smiled  as  though  he  were 
faintly  amused  at  something. 

She  had  noticed  his  glad  look  of  recognition, 
and  she  hated  him  for  it.  What  right  had  he 
to  be  glad  to  see  her  ?  And  now  that  he  was 
laughing  at  her  and  making  insinuations  about 
Ted,  true  insinuations  moreover,  she  hated  him 
still  more  for  his  acuteness. 
358 


The  Making   of  a   Prig 

"  So  you  are  back  in  town  ?  "  he  was  saying, 
with  what  appeared  to  be  meant  for  a  kindly 
interest.  "  I  am  not  surprised,  though.  I 
always  knew  you  would  have  to  come  back." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? "  she  asked,  feeling 
more  annoyed  than  ever.  It  was  so  like  him 
to  know  everything  about  her  without  being 
told,  and  then  to  put  a  complexion  upon  it 
that  he  gave  her  no  opportunity  of  contradict- 
ing. "  We  came  up,  daddy  and  I,  because 
Ted  was  ill ;  and  we  are  going  back  again  on 
Wednesday." 

"  Really  ?  My  mistake  again.  It  is  dif- 
ficult to  imagine  Ted  except  in  the  complete 
enjoyment  of  his  health.  Not  seriously  ill,  I 
hope  ? " 

"  Oh,  no,"  she  said,  with  an  uncomfortable 
conviction  that  she  was  being  made  to  expose 
herself  in  all  her  weakness ;  "  but  there  was 
no  one  to  nurse  him,  so  I  came.  He  is  all 
right  now." 

"  So  I  should  judge  from  the  brief  glimpse 
I  had  of  him  just  now.  Lucky  fellow,  Ted  ! 
He  looked  very  jolly,  I  thought;  no  doubt  he 
has  good  cause  for  his  happiness.  You  are 
looking  well  too,  if  I  may  say  so.  It  is  very 
delightful  to  be  young,  is  it  not  ?  " 

She  felt  a  wild  rage  against  him  for  detecting 
359 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

the  situation  so  absolutely,  and  for  making  it 
merely  a  subject  for  his  raillery.  She  did  not 
know  how  she  would  have  wished  him  to  take 
it,  but  she  hated  him  all  the  same  for  so 
calmly  accepting  it. 

"  I  don't  understand  you,"  she  said,  speak- 
ing rapidly.  "  It  is  n't  a  bit  delightful ;  you 
know  it  is  n't.  You  know  I  hate  you ;  you 
know  I  am  the  most  miserable  person  in  the 
whole  world.  You  know  everything  there  is 
to  know  about  me ;  and  I  hate  you  !  Why 
did  you  come  back  to  spoil  it  all,  when  I  was 
trying  so  hard  to  be  happy  ?  " 

Her  own  words  amazed  her.  She  knew 
they  were  true  as  she  spoke  them ;  but  she 
had  not  known  it  ten  minutes  ago. 

"  I  'm  sorry,"  he  said,  gravely.  "  Shall  I 
go?" 

He  had  completely  dropped  his  jesting  tone, 
but  she  hated  him  for  his  pity  even  more  than 
she  had  hated  him  for  his  ridicule ;  she  tried 
to  speak,  but  her  anger  choked  her  utterance. 

"  When  will  you  be  at  Ivingdon  again  ?  "  he 
asked.  "  Did  you  say  Wednesday  ?  And  you 
are  going  to  leave  Ted  in  town  ?  " 

She  asked  herself  why  he  did  not  go,  instead 
of  standing  there  and  making  conversation  by 
inventing  questions  to  which  he  could  not  pos- 

360 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

sibly  want  to  know  the  answers.  But  she 
mechanically  made  a  gesture  in  the  affirmative 
to  both  of  them  ;  and  he  repeated  his  former 
inquiry  with  gentle  insistence. 

"  Shall  I  go  now  ?  " 

"  Yes,  go  !  "  she  cried  fiercely,  and  ignored 
the  hand  he  proffered  her,  and  let  him  go  with- 
out another  word. 

The  fog  swallowed  him  up,  and  she  stood 
and  gazed  at  the  place  where  he  had  stood,  and 
wondered  vaguely  if  he  had  been  there  at  all 
or  if  she  had  not  dreamt  the  whole  incident. 
For  one  moment  the  wild  impulse  seized  her 
to  rush  after  him  into  the  fog  and  the  darkness, 
and  to  implore  him  to  take  her  with  him  any- 
where, so  long  as  she  might  be  with  him.  And 
then  a  smile  flickered  across  her  face  as  the 
bookseller  came  out  and  spoke  to  her ;  and  she 
paid  for  the  first  volume  she  picked  up ;  and 
the  Rector  and  Ted  emerged  from  the  fog  into 
the  semicircle  of  light,  and  life  resumed  its 
ordinary  aspect  again. 

"  Has  he  gone  ?  "  asked  Ted. 

"Who?  Mr.  Wilton?  I  did  not  know 
you  saw  him.  Oh,  yes ;  he  went  some  time 
ago.  Is  n't  this  a  jolly  little  thing  I  have 
picked  up  ?  "  said  Katharine  lightly  ;  and  Ted 
apparently  thought  no  more  about  it. 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

That  evening  she  was  almost  feverishly  gay. 
The  Rector  sat  and  smiled  happily  as  she 
turned  everything  that  occurred  into  ridicule, 
and  made  every  passer-by  a  subject  for  her  wit. 
They  did  not  go  to  a  theatre,  on  account  of 
the  bad  weather  ;  and  when  Monty  dropped 
in  to  coffee  later  on,  she  kept  him  in  a  per- 
petual condition  of  adoring  approval  until  the 
fact  of  Ted's  gloomy  silence  was  gradually 
forced  upon  her,  and  she  blamed  herself  hotly 
for  her  stupidity.  She  was  very  cool  to 
Monty  after  she  had  realised  her  blunder; 
and  the  poor  fellow,  who  was  quite  ignorant 
of  his  offence,  took  the  first  opportunity  to 
depart.  Even  then,  in  spite  of  her  efforts  to 
be  kind  to  him,  Ted  did  not  wholly  recover 
his  spirits  ;  and  she  sighed  inwardly  as  she 
reflected  that  she  could  not  even  be  sure  of 
accomplishing  the  one  task  she  had  set  herself 
to  perform. 

And  the  next  day  her  old  restlessness  pos- 
sessed her  again.  All  the  work  of  the  past 
six  weeks  seemed  to  have  been  suddenly  un- 
done ;  nothing  brought  her  any  happiness,  she 
reflected  bitterly  ;  she  was  incapable  of  happi- 
ness and  it  was  absurd  of  her  to  have  expected 
to  find  it.  All  the  same,  perhaps  if  Ted  were 
to  say  something  to  her  —  but  Ted  still  said 
362 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

nothing,  and  went  about  making  plans  for  her 
enjoyment  on  this  her  last  day  in  town,  as 
though  their  coming  separation  were  of  no 
matter  at  all ;  and  he  seemed  as  unconscious 
of  her  change  of  mood  as  he  had  been  all 
along  of  her  unusual  contentment.  The  day 
was  not  a  success  ;  their  little  improvised 
amusements  had  been  far  more  satisfactory 
than  the  carefully  planned  ones  of  to-day,  and 
Ted's  silence  on  the  one  subject  of  interest 
grew  more  marked  as  the  time  wore  on,  and 
ended  in  raising  an  uncomfortable  barrier  be- 
tween them.  Once  she  felt  sure  that  he  would 
have  spoken  if  the  Rector  had  not  come  in  un- 
expectedly ;  and  once,  he  startled  her  by  sud- 
denly taking  both  her  hands  in  his  and  look- 
ing into  her  eyes  for  a  full  minute,  while  she 
waited  passively  for  him  to  speak.  But  he 
turned  very  red  instead,  and  called  himself  a 
fool  and  hurried  out  of  the  room,  and  left  her 
half  amused  and  half  regretful.  She  felt  very 
tender  towards  him  after  that ;  and  the  old 
desire  to  mother  him  was  very  strong  within 
her  when  they  stood  together  at  last  on  the 
platform  at  Euston,  and  had  only  a  few  mo- 
ments left  in  which  to  say  what  was  in  their 
minds. 

"  God  bless  you,  dear  !  I  shall  see  you  again 
363 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

soon  ?  "  was  all  she  could  bring  herself  to  say 
in  that  last  moment. 

"  No  —  yes  —  perhaps.  I  am  going  to  write 
to  you  quite  soon.  I  'm  a  rotten  ass,  as  you 
know,  but  —  you  will  try  and  understand,  won't 
you,  Kitty  ? " 

The  train  went  on,  and  she  leaned  out  of 
the  window  and  laughed. 

"  I  am  sure  I  shall  understand,"  she  said. 


364 


CHAPTER   XIX 

SHE  waited  in  vain  during  the  next  two  days 
for  Ted's  letter.  His  parting  words  to  her, 
however,  seemed  to  have  again  restored  her 
peace  of  mind ;  and  the  virtuous  mood  in 
which  she  returned  to  Ivingdon  was  so  un- 
precedented as  to  rouse  surprise  rather  than 
the  admiration  it  deserved.  The  climax  was 
reached  when  Miss  Esther  insisted  on  giving 
her  a  tonic. 

"  It  is  very  ridiculous,"  she  remonstrated, 
"  that  one  is  never  allowed  to  drop  one's  char- 
acteristic attitude  for  a  moment.  If  I  had 
come  home  and  behaved  as  childishly  as  I 
usually  do,  you  would  have  been  quite  satis- 
fied ;  but  just  because  I  am  inclined  to  be 
civilised  for  a  change,  you  choose  to  resent  it. 
One  would  think  you  had  taken  out  a  patent 
for  all  the  virtues." 

"  My    dear,    that  is  doubtless    very    clever, 

but  I  wish  you  would  drink  up  this  and  not 

keep    me  standing,"   returned   her  aunt,   who 

was,    as   ever,  occupied  with  actions   and  not 

365 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

with  theories  about  them ;  and  Katharine  had 
to  seek  consolation  for  her  temporary  discom- 
fort in  the  absurdity  of  the  situation. 

She  wondered  slightly  why  Ted  had  not 
written  to  her  at  once,  but  after  the  vacilla- 
tion he  had  already  shown  she  was  not  un- 
prepared for  a  further  delay  ;  it  was  more  than 
likely  that  he  found  the  complexities  of  writ- 
ing what  he  could  not  speak  to  be  greater 
than  he  supposed,  and  it  amused  her  to  con- 
jecture that  he  would  probably  end  in  coming 
to  her  for  the  help  he  had  learnt  to  expect 
from  her  in  all  the  crises  of  his  life.  Mean- 
while, there  was  a  whole  lifetime  before  them  in 
which  they  could  work  out  the  effects  of  their 
action,  and  in  her  present  mood  she  saw  no 
satisfactory  reason  for  hurrying  it;  she  did 'not 
realise  how  persistently  she  was  recalling  every 
instance  of  Ted's  kindness  to  her,  as  if  to 
strengthen  her  resolution,  and  she  was  un- 
conscious of  the  doggedness  with  which  she 
avoided  dwelling  on  a  certain  episode  in  the 
London  visit  which  she  had  never  even  men- 
tioned to  her  father.  She  had  cheated  herself, 
by  degrees,  into  a  complacency  that  she  mis- 
took for  resignation. 

At  last,  by  the  mid-day  post  on  Saturday 
morning,  she  received  her  letter.  It  came 
366 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

with  another  one,  written  in  a  hand  that 
brought  association  without  distinct  recollec- 
tion to  her  mind  ;  and  she  opened  the  latter 
first,  principally  because  it  was  the  one  that 
interested  her  least.  The  first  page  revealed 
its  identity  ;  it  was  from  Mrs.  Downing,  and 
was  characteristically  full  of  underlined  words 
and  barely  legible  interpolations,  and  she  was 
obliged  to  read  it  through  twice  before  she 
was  able  to  grasp  its  meaning.  The  drift  of 
it  was  that  the  enterprising  lady  principal  was 
about  to  open  a  branch  of  her  school  in  Paris, 
where  everything  was  to  be  French,  "quite 
French,  you  know,  my  dear  Miss  Austen, — 
staff,  conversation,  cooking,  games,  everything; 
a  place  to  which  I  can  send  on  the  dear 
children  from  here  when  they  want  finish- 
ing. The  French  are  such  delicious  people, 
are  they  not  ?  So  unique,  and  so  French  ! " 
The  morals,  however,  were  to  be  English ;  so, 
in  spite  of  the  unique  French  element  in  the 
French  character,  there  was  to  be  an  English 
head  to  the  establishment,  and  it  was  this 
position  that  she  proceeded  in  a  maze  of  ex- 
travagant compliments  to  offer  to  her  former 
junior  mistress.  "  Not  a  duenna,  of  course, 
for  that  will  be  supplied  in  the  person  of  the 
excellent  Miss  Smithson,  who  will  act  nomi- 
367 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

nally  as  housekeeper,  and  make  an  exquisite 
background  to  the  whole.  There  are  always 
some  of  those  dear  foolish  mammas  who  will 
insist  on  placing  propriety  before  education, — 
so  benighted,  is  it  not  ?  But  Miss  Smithson 
was  intended  by  Nature,  I  am  sure,  to  propi- 
tiate that  kind  of  mamma  ;  while  you,  my  dear 
Miss  Austen,  I  intend  to  be  something  more 
than  a  background.  I  look  to  you  to  give  a 
tone  to  the  school,  to  manage  the  working  of 
it  all,  —  the  amusements,  the  lectures,  indeed, 
the  whole  regime ;  to  be  responsible  for  the  dear 
children's  happiness,  and  to  see  that  they  write 
happy  letters  home  every  week,  —  to  take  my 
place,  in  fact.  I  could  tell  you  all  in  two 
minutes,  etc.,  etc." 

Katharine  laid  down  the  letter  with  an  in- 
voluntary sigh  ;  the  position  it  offered  was  full 
of  attractions  to  her,  and  the  salary  would  have 
been  more  than  she  had  ever  hoped  to  de- 
mand. "  I  wish  she  had  asked  me  six  weeks 
ago,"  she  said  aloud,  and  then  accused  her- 
self fiercely  of  disloyalty  and  picked  up  Ted's 
letter,  and  studied  the  boyish  handwriting  on 
the  envelope  as  though  to  give  herself  courage 
to  open  it.  She  had  wanted  to  be  alone  with 
his  letter,  and  had  carefully  watched  her  father 
out  of  the  house  before  shutting  herself  into 
368 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

the  study ;  so  the  sound  of  a  footstep  on  the 
gravel  path  outside  brought  a  frown  to  her 
face,  and  she  remained  purposely  with  her 
back  to  the  window  so  that  the  intruder,  who- 
ever he  was,  should  see  that  she  did  not  mean 
to  be  disturbed.  But  the  voice  in  which  she 
heard  her  name  spoken  through  the  open 
window  arrested  her  attention. 

She  dropped  the  unopened  letter  on  the 
table,  and  turned  slowly  round  to  face  the 
speaker.  The  strangeness  of  his  coming,  when 
she  had  been  obstinately  putting  him  out  of 
her  thoughts  since  last  Monday,  had  a  para- 
lysing effect  upon  her  nerves  ;  and  Paul  swung 
himself  over  the  low  window  seat,  and  reached 
her  side  in  time  to  save  her  from  falling.  She 
recovered  herself  immediately,  however,  and 
shrank  back  from  his  touch. 

"  I  do  not  understand  why  you  are  here," 
she  found  herself  saying  with  difficulty. 

"  That  is  what  I  have  come  to  explain,"  he 
replied.  "  I  could  hardly  expect  you  to  un- 
derstand." 

His  tone  was  curiously  gentle.  It  struck 
her,  as  she  looked  at  him  again,  that  he  was 
very  much  altered.  She  had  not  noticed  his 
appearance  much  as  he  stood  outside  the 
book  shop,  with  the  dark  fog  at  his  back ;  but 
24  369 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

now,  as  the  light  from  the  window  behind  fell 
full  on  his  head  she  saw  the  fresh  streaks  of 
white  in  the  black  hair,  and  the  sight  affected 
her  strangely.  Perhaps,  while  she  in  her  arro- 
gance had  believed  him  to  be  living  in  an 
ill-gotten  contentment,  he,  too,  had  had  some- 
thing to  suffer. 

"  Won't  you  sit  down  ?  "  she  said,  and  took 
a  chair  herself,  and  waited  for  him  to  begin. 
The  one  idea  in  her  mind  was  that  he  should 
not  suspect  her  of  nervousness. 

"  You  were  kind  enough,  when  we  last  met 
in  the  summer,"  began  Paul,  "  to  congratulate 
me  on  my  engagement  to  your  cousin.  I  am 
going  to  ask  you  to  extend  your  kindness  now, 
and  to  congratulate  us  both  on  being  released 
from  that  engagement." 

Katharine  looked  wonderingly  at  him.  But 
there  was  nothing  to  be  gathered  from  his  face. 
She  smiled  rather  sadly. 

"  Poor  Marion  !  "  she  said,  softly.  "  Is  n't 
anybody  to  be  allowed  to  remain  happy  ?  " 

"  You  mistake  me,"  he  corrected  her  care- 
fully. "  Your  cousin  took  the  initiative  in 
the  matter ;  she  is  obviously  the  one  to  be 
congratulated." 

"  And  you  ?  " 

"  I  ?  Oh,  I  suppose  I  have  only  my  own 
370 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

ignorance  to  blame.  If  I  had  had  more 
knowledge  of  women,  I  should  have  known 
better  what  was  expected  of  me.  As  it 
is,  my  engagement  has  proved  a  complete 
failure." 

There  was  a  pause,  till  Katharine  roused 
herself  to  speak  in  a  lifeless  kind  of  voice 
that  did  not  seem  to  belong  to  her. 

"  I  am  sorry  if  it  has  made  you  unhappy," 
she  said.  Paul  looked  at  her  critically. 

"  Are  you  sure  ?  "  he  asked,  smiling. 

Katharine  folded  and  unfolded  her  hands 
uneasily,  and  wished  he  would  go  away  and 
remove  his  disquieting  presence  from  her  life 
for  ever. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  said.  "  One  is  always 
sorry  when  people  are  unhappy,  of  course." 

"  Only  that  ?  "  His  voice  had  a  touch  of 
disappointment  in  it,  and  she  began  to  tremble 
for  her  composure.  He  got  up  and  walked 
to  the  window  and  looked  across  the  lawn, 
where  the  wintry  sun  was  struggling  through 
the  bare  branches  of  the  elm  trees  and  making 
faint  intricate  patterns  on  the  whitened  grass 
below.  "  This  is  where  I  first  met  you,  three 
years  ago,"  he  went  on  as  though  he  were 
talking  to  himself.  "You  were  only  a  child 
then,  and  you  interested  me.  I  used  to  won- 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

der  what  there  was  about  you  that  interested 
me  so  much,  a  mere  child  like  you  !  You  were 
very  sweet  to  me  in  those  days,  Katharine." 

"I  —  I  wish  you  would  n't,"  said  Katharine. 
But  he  did  not  seem  to  hear  her. 

"  Most  men  would  have  behaved  differently, 
I  suppose,"  he  went  on,  still  looking  away 
from  her.  "  It  is  very  fatal  to  admit  the  pos- 
sibility, even  to  ourselves,  of  making  a  new 
system  for  an  effete  civilisation  like  ours ;  and 
I  was  a  fool  to  suppose  that  women  could  be 
dealt  with  by  any  but  the  obvious  methods. 
It  is  my  own  fault,  of  course,  that  in  my 
anxiety  to  keep  your  respect  I  managed  to 
destroy  your  affection." 

She  wanted  to  vindicate  herself,  to  protest 
against  what  seemed  to  her  his  confident  self- 
righteousness  ;  but  the  old  influence  was  creep- 
ing over  her  again,  and  it  numbed  her. 

"  I  wish  you  would  not  say  those  things," 
she  said,  weakly.  The  unopened  letter  lying 
on  the  red  table-cloth  seemed  like  a  protest 
against  the  futility  of  the  scene  that  was  pass- 
ing, and  she  found  herself  controlling  a  desire 
to  laugh  at  the  mockery  of  it  all. 

He  turned  round  again  with  a  half-sup- 
pressed sigh,  and  took  out  his  watch. 

"  Just  twelve,"  he  said,  reflectively.  "  I 
372 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

must  be  off  if  I  mean  to  walk  to  the  station. 
You  will  forgive  me  for  having  worried  you 
with  all  this  ?  I  had  a  sort  of  feeling  that  I 
should  like  to  tell  you  about  it  myself;  our 
old  friendship  seemed  to  demand  that  little 
amount  of  frankness,  though  I  suppose  you 
will  think  I  have  no  right  to  talk  about 
friendship  any  longer.  I  acknowledge  that  I 
have  given  you  every  reason  to  be  vexed  with 
me ;  if  I  can  ever  do  anything  to  remove 
the  disagreeable  impression  from  your  mind, 
I  hope  you  will  let  me  know.  Good-bye." 

"  You  —  you  are  not  going  ?  "  She  had 
risen  too,  and  was  standing  between  him  and 
the  door.  She  did  not  know  why  she  wished 
to  keep  him,  but  she  knew  she  could  not  let 
him  go. 

"  Unless  you  can  show  me  a  satisfactory 
reason  for  remaining,"  was  his  reply.  She  was 
trembling  violently  from  head  to  foot. 

"  I  cannot  bear  that  you  should  leave  me 
like  this,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice. 

"It  rests  with  you  to  say  whether  I  am  to 
go  or  not,"  said  Paul  in  the  same  tone.  She 
was  looking  straight  into  his  eyes ;  but  what 
she  saw,  for  all  that,  was  the  unopened  letter 
on  the  red  table-cloth.  She  put  out  her  hands 
as  if  to  push  him  away  from  her,  but  he  mis- 
373 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

took  her  movement  and  grasped  them  both  in 
his  own. 

"  Don't,  oh,  don't ! "  she  cried,  struggling 
feebly  to  release  herself.  "  I  want  you  to  go 
away,  please.  I  thought  it  was  all  over  and 
that  I  should  never  see  you  again,  and  I  was 
beginning  to  feel  happy,  just  a  little  happy ; 
and  now  you  have  come  back,  and  you  want 
it  to  begin  all  over  again,  and  I  can't  let  it,  —  I 
am  not  strong  enough !  Oh,  won't  you  go, 
please  ? " 

"  If  you  send  me,  I  will  go,"  said  Paul,  and 
waited  for  her  answer.  But  none  came,  and 
he  laughed  out  triumphantly.  She  had  never 
heard  him  laugh  so  thoroughly  before. 

"  I  knew  you  could  n't,  you  proud  little 
person,"  he  said,  with  a  sudden  tenderness  in 
his  smile.  "  The  woman  in  you  is  so  strong, 
is  it  not,  Katharine  ?  Ah,  I  know  far  more 
about  you  than  you  know  yourself;  but  you 
don't  believe  that,  do  you  ?  Shall  I  tell  you 
why  I  came  to  you  to-day  ?  It  was  just  to  say 
to  you  that  I  could  not  live  without  you  any 
longer.  Is  n't  that  strange  ?  I  have  been 
brutally  frank  with  you  to-day,  Katharine, 
there  is  not  another  woman  in  the  world  who 
would  have  taken  it  as  you  have  done.  I 
knew  you  would,  before  I  came  to  you ;  and 
374 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

the  knowledge  gives  me  courage  to  tell  you 
one  thing  more.  You  know  the  failure  of  my 
attempt  to  marry  for  ambition ;  will  you,  in 
your  sweetness,  help  me  to  marry  for  love  ? " 

He  dropped  her  hands  and  moved  away 
from  her.  The  delicacy  of  his  action,  slight 
though  it  was,  appealed  to  her  strongly.  She 
turned  her  back  to  the  table  to  avoid  seeing 
the  white  letter  on  the  red  table-cloth. 

"  I  cannot  marry  you,"  she  said,  hurriedly. 
"  I  would  have  been  your  slave  a  few  months 
ago,  but  I  cannot  be  your  wife  now." 

Except  for  a  tightening  of  his  lips,  he  did 
not  move  a  feature. 

"  That  is  not  true ;  I  cannot  believe  it,"  he 
said  shortly. 

"  Why  not  ? "  she  asked  in  a  tired  voice. 
She  hoped  he  would  not  guess  how  near  she 
was  to  submission. 

"  Because  it  is  not  possible.  You  are  not 
the  kind  of  woman  who  changes.  You  must 
love  me  now,  because  you  loved  me  then. 
You  cannot  deny  that  you  loved  me  then  ? " 

"  No,"  said  Katharine,  "  I  cannot  deny  it." 

"  Then   why  do  you  pretend  that  you  do 
not  love  me  still  ?      I  do  not  believe  it  is  be- 
cause of  my  engagement  to  your  cousin.    You 
are  made  of  finer  clay  than  others,  and — " 
375 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  Oh,  no ;  that  is  not  the  reason,"  she  said, 
interrupting  him  impatiently. 

"  Will  you  not  tell  me  why  it  is  ? "  he 
asked,  approaching  her  again.  There  was  no 
mistaking  the  tenderness  in  his  tone  now,  and 
she  cast  about  in  her  mind  for  some  excuse 
to  dismiss  him  before  she  completely  lost  her 
power  of  resistance.  "  Have  I  made  you  so 
angry  that  you  will  never  forgive  me  ?  " 

"  No,  no  ;  you  never  made  me  angry,"  she 
protested.  "  But  you  made  me  feel  absurd, 
and  that  is  ever  so  much  worse.  I  cannot  be 
sure,  now,  that  you  are  not  merely  laughing 
at  me.  Have  you  forgotten  that  you  once 
thought  me  a  prig  ?  I  have  not  altered ;  I 
am  still  a  prig.  How  can  you  want  to  marry 
me  when  you  have  that  image  of  me  in  your 
mind  ?  It  is  hopeless  to  think  of  our  marry- 
ing, —  you  with  a  secret  contempt  for  me,  and 
I  with  a  perpetual  fear  of  you  !  " 

The  man  in  him  alone  spoke  when  he  an- 
swered her. 

"  Surely,  it  is  enough  that  we  love  each 
other?" 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  Ah,  you  know  it  is  not,"  she  replied,  with 
the  strange  little  smile  that  had  so  often  baf- 
fled him.     "I  —  I  do  so  wish  you  would  un- 
376 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

derstand  —  and    go.       Or    shall    I     find    my 
father  and  tell  him  that  you   are   here  ? " 

He  laid  his  hand  against  her  cheek,  and 
watched  her  closely. 

"Is  it  all  over,  —  our  friendship,  your  love 
for  me,  everything?"  he  whispered.  "Do 
you  remember  how  sweetly  you  nursed  me 
three  years  ago  ?  Have  you  forgotten  the  jolly 
talks  we  had  together  in  the  Temple  ?  And  all 
the  fun  we  had  together  in  London  ?  Is  it  all 
to  come  to  an  end  like  this  ?  " 

"I  can't  marry  you;  I  don't  love  you 
enough  for  that,"  she  said,  moving  restively 
under  his  touch.  He  stroked  her  cheek 
gently. 

"  Then  why  do  you  thrill  when  I  touch 
you  ? "  he  asked.  "  Why  do  you  not  send 
me  away  ? "  It  was  his  last  move,  and  he 
watched  its  effect  anxiously.  She  looked  at 
him  helplessly. 

"I  —  I  do  send  you  away,"  she  said  faintly, 
and  he  made  her  join  feebly  in  the  laugh 
against  herself.  There  was  something  con- 
temptible in  her  surrender,  she  felt,  as  he 
folded  her  in  his  arms  and  looked  down  at 
her  with  a  manly  air  of  possession. 

"  If  this  is  not  love  what  is  it,  you  solemn 
little  Puritan  ?  "  he  murmured. 
377 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Katharine  dully. 
She  submitted  passively  to  his  embrace,  and 
allowed  him  to  kiss  her  more  than  once. 

"  Of  course  you  don't  know,"  he  smiled. 
"  What  a  woman  you  are,  and  how  I  love  you 
for  it !  Don't  be  so  serious,  sweetheart ;  tell 
me  what  you  are  thinking  about  so  deeply  ? " 

It  was  pity  for  him,  her  old  genuine  love 
for  him  reawakening,  that  made  her  at  last 
rouse  herself  to  tell  him  the  truth. 

"  Will  you  please  let  me  go,  Paul  ? "  she 
asked  submissively.  And  as  he  loosened  his 
arms  and  allowed  her  to  go,  she  took  one  of 
.his  hands  and  led  him  with  feverish  haste 
round  to  the  table,  where  Ted's  letter  still 
lay  like  a  silent  witness  against  herself.  They 
stood  side  by  side  and  looked  at  it,  the  white 
envelope  on  the  red  table-cloth,  and  it  was 
quite  a  minute  before  the  silence  was  broken. 
Then  Katharine  pulled  him  away  again  and 
covered  up  the  letter  with  her  hand  and 
looked  up  in  his  face. 

"  Do  you  know  what  is  in  that  letter  ?  "  she 
asked,  and  without  waiting  for  a  reply  went  on 
almost  immediately.  "It  is  from  Ted,  to  ask 
me  to  be  his  wife." 

"  And  you  are  going  to  say  —  " 

"Yes." 

378 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

Paul  smiled  incredulously. 

"  It  is  impossible,"  he  said.  "  I  decline  to 
believe  what  you  say  now,  after  what  you  said 
to  me  on  Monday  afternoon." 

"  Ah,"  she  cried,  "  I  was  mad  then.  You 
always  make  me  mad  when  I  am  with  you. 
You  must  not  talk  any  more  of  Monday  after- 
noon ;  you  must  forget  what  I  said  to  you 
then,  and  what  I  have  said  to  you  to-day ;  you 
must  forget  that  I  have  allowed  you  to  kiss 
me  —  " 

"  Forget  ?  "  interrupted  Paul.  "  Are  you 
going  to  forget  all  this  ?  " 

She  turned  away  with  a  little  cry. 

"  You  make  it  so  hard  for  me,  Paul ;  and  it 
seemed  so  easy  before  you  came  !  " 

"  Then  it  does  n't  seem  so  easy  now  ?  " 

She  evaded  his  question.  "  I  know  I  am 
right,  because  I  thought  it  all  out  when  you 
were  not  here,"  she  went  on  piteously.  "  I 
cannot  trust  myself  even  to  think  properly 
when  you  are  there  ;  you  make  me  quite  un- 
like myself.  That  is  why  I  am  going  to  marry 
Ted.  Ted  is  the  sanest  person  I  know ;  he 
leaves  me  my  individuality ;  he  does  n't  par- 
alyse me  as  you  do ;  and  I  am  simply  myself 
when  I  am  with  him." 

"  Simply  yourself!  "  echoed  Paul.  "  My 
379 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

dear  little  girl,  whatever  in  heaven  or  earth  has 
allowed  such  a  misapprehension  to  creep  into 
your  head  ? " 

"  I  know  what  you  mean,"  she  said.  "  I 
have  thought  that  out,  too.  You  know  more 
about  me  than  anybody  in  the  whole  world ; 
Ted  will  never  know  as  much  as  you  know, 
although  I  am  going  to  be  his  wife.  You  are 
the  only  person  I  could  ever  talk  to  about  my- 
self; you  are  the  only  person  who  understands. 
I  know  all  that.  But  one  does  not  want  that 
in  a  husband ;  one  wants  some  one  who  will  be 
content  with  half  of  one's  self,  and  allow  the 
other  half  to  develop  as  it  pleases.  You  would 
never  be  content  with  less  than  the  whole, 
would  you,  Paul  ?  Ah,  that  is  why  I  loved 
you  so  madly !  It  is  so  queer,  is  n't  it,  that 
the  very  things  that  make  us  fall  in  love 
are  the  very  things  that  make  marriage  im- 
possible ?  " 

He  did  not  speak,  and  she  put  her  arms 
round  his  neck  impulsively  and  drew  his  head 
down  to  hers. 

"Don't  you  understand,  dear?"  she  said. 
"  It  is  impossible  to  find  everything  we  want 
in  one  person,  so  we  have  to  be  content  with 
satisfying  one  side  of  ourselves,  or  accept  the 
alternative  and  not  marry  at  all.  Ted  wants 
380 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

me  badly,  or  I  would  rather  choose  not  to 
marry  at  all.  But  he  must  have  some  one  to 
look  after  him,  —  he  can't  live  alone  like  some 
men ;  and  I  have  always  looked  after  him  all 
my  life.  He  has  come  in  my  way  again  now, 
so  I  am  going  to  look  after  him  to  the  end.  I 
am  very  fond  of  Ted,  and  we  have  learnt  to  be 
chums,  so  I  don't  think  it  will  be  a  failure. 
Oh,  do  say  you  understand,  Paul  ? " 

"  Do  you  love  him  ?  "  asked  Paul. 

"  Yes,"  she  replied. 

"  As  you  loved  me  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Katharine,  simply.  "  I  could 
never  love  any  one  again  like  that.  I  wore 
myself  out,  I  think,  in  my  love  for  you.  Oh, 
I  know  I  am  spoiled ;  I  know  I  have  only  the 
second  best  of  myself  to  give  to  Ted ;  but  if  he 
is  content  with  that,  ought  I  not  to  be  glad  to 
give  it  ? " 

"  But  you,  your  own  happiness,"  he  urged 
brokenly.  "  Have  you  no  thought  for  your 
own  happiness  ?  " 

"  Happiness  ? "  she  said,  smiling  again. 
"  Oh,  I  do  not  expect  to  find  happiness. 
Women  like  me,  who  ask  for  more  than  life 
can  possibly  give  them,  have  no  right  to  ex- 
pect the  same  happiness  as  the  people  who 
have  found  out  that  it  is  better  to  make  a  com- 
38i 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

promise  and  to  take  what  they  can  get !  Oh, 
I  shall  never  be  greatly  happy,  I  know  that. 
But  I  do  not  mind  much ;  it  is  enough  for  me 
that  I  did  once  taste  the  real,  glorious  hap- 
piness, if  it  was  only  in  snatches." 

"  Won't  you  taste  it  again  ?  "  he  said,  draw- 
ing her  suddenly  to  him.  "  Won't  you  give 
up  this  impossible  scheme  of  yours,  and  come 
to  me  ?  We  will  be  married  over  there  by 
your  father,  —  now,  —  this  very  day.  We 
will  go  abroad,  travel,  do  what  you  will. 
Only  come  with  me,  Katharine.  You  belong 
to  me,  and  to  me  only  ;  you  dare  not  deny  it. 
Come  with  me,  Katharine." 

"  No,"  she  said,  shaking  her  head.  "  I  am 
not  going  to  spoil  your  life,  as  you  have  spoilt 
mine.  You  will  be  a  great  man,  Paul,  if  you 
do  not  marry  me." 

"  Listen,"  he  said,  without  heeding  her. 
"  This  is  the  last  time  I  shall  ask  you ;  this 
is  the  last  time  I  shall  hold  you  in  my  arms,  — 
so.  I  shall  go  away  after  this,  and  you  will  never 
see  me  again,  nor  hear  of  me  again.  I  shall 
never  kiss  you  any  more,  nor  ask  you  to  come 
away  with  me,  nor  tell  you  I  love  you  as  I 
never  loved  another  woman.  If  you  come  to 
me  on  your  knees  and  beg  me  to  love  you 
again,  I  will  not  relent.  Do  you  understand 
382 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

me  ?  This  is  the  last,  the  very  last  time.  Now 
what  have  you  to  say  ?  Will  you  come  with 
me?" 

She  threw  back  her  head  and  met  his  gaze 
as  he  bent  over  her. 

"  No,"  she  said  again.  He  covered  her  face 
with  kisses. 

"  And  now  ?  " 

"  No,"  she  repeated  desperately  ;  and  she 
crept  away  from  him  at  last,  and  took  her  letter 
from  the  table  and  tried  to  walk  to  the  door. 

A  slippered  footstep  shuffled  along  the  hall 
and  stopped  outside  the  library  door.  The 
next  moment  the  Rector  was  in  the  room. 

"  Kitty,  my  child,  have  you  seen  my  hat  any- 
where ?  I  feel  convinced  I  put  it  down  some- 
where, and  for  the  life  of  me  —  " 

He  paused  as  he  saw  Paul,  and  held  out  his 
hand  with  a  smile  of  welcome. 

"  Delighted  to  see  you  again,  my  dear  sir, 
delighted !  That  is  to  say,"  added  the  old 
man,  looking  to  Katharine  for  assistance,  "  I 
suppose  I  have  seen  you  before,  though  for  the 
moment  I  cannot  quite  recall  your  name.  But 
my  memory  is  getting  a  bad  one  for  names,  a 
very  bad  one,  eh,  Kitty  ?  Anyhow,  you  will 
stop  to  lunch,  of  course ;  and  meanwhile,  if  I 
can  only  find  my  hat  — " 
383 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  Daddy,  it  is  Mr.  Wilton,"  explained 
Katharine,  making  an  effort  to  speak  in  her 
usual  voice.  Strange  to  say,  it  did  not  seem 
difficult  to  become  usual  again  now  that  her 
father  was  in  the  room.  "  He  stayed  with  us 
once,  a  long  time  ago ;  you  remember  Mr. 
Wilton,  don't  you?" 

"  To  be  sure,  to  be  sure  ;  of  course  I  remem- 
ber Mr.  Wilton  perfectly  ! "  said  the  Rector, 
shaking  hands  with  him  again.  "  I  can  remem- 
ber distinctly  many  of  our  little  talks  on  archae- 
ology and  so  forth.  Let  me  see,  any  relation 
to  the  great  numismatist  ?  Ah,  now  I  know 
who  you  are  quite  well.  There  was  an  acci- 
dent, or  a  calamity  of  some  sort,  if  I  recollect 
rightly.  Kitty,  my  child,  have  you  found  my 
hat  ? " 

"  Will  you  stay  to  lunch  ?  "  Katharine  was 
asking  him. 

"  Of  course  he  will  stay  to  lunch,"  cried  the 
Rector,  without  giving  him  time  to  reply. 
"  I  've  picked  up  some  fine  specimens  of  old 
Sheffield  plate  that  I  should  like  to  show  you, 
Mr.  Wilton.  Stay  to  lunch  ?  Why,  of  course. 
Dear  me,  I  know  I  saw  it  somewhere  —  Got 
to  catch  the  two-thirty  ?  Oh,  that 's  all  right ; 
we  '11  drive  you  to  the  station  after  lunch. 
That  child  will  like  a  chat  with  you,  eh,  Kitty  ? 
384 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

You  used  to  be  great  friends,  and  she  has  some- 
thing —  no,  no,  I  've  looked  there  twice  — 
something  of  interest  to  tell  you,  something  of 
very  great  interest,  eh,  Kitty  ?  A  nice  young 
fellow  he  is,  too,"  continued  the  old  man,  stop- 
ping for  a  moment  in  his  fruitless  search.  "  By 
the  way,  you  know  him,  don't  you  ?  It 's 
young —  Ah,  now  I  remember!  I  left  it  in 
the  vestry  ;  so  stupid  of  me  ! " 

Paul  stopped  him  as  he  was  hurrying  out  of 
the  room. 

"  I  must  be  off,  thank  you,  sir.  I  am  not 
going  to  catch  the  two-thirty  at  all.  I  think  I 
will  walk  on  somewhere  and  catch  something 
else,  if  there  happens  to  be  anything.  I  am 
sure  I  wish  Miss  Katharine  every  happiness. 
Good-morning." 

He  went  out  by  the  window  as  he  had  come, 
and  they  watched  him  as  he  walked  across  the 
lawn,  the  neat  figure  crowned  by  the  conven- 
tional felt  hat.  He  had  not  shaken  hands  with 
Katharine  nor  looked  at  her  again. 

The  Rector  glanced  after  him  and  smoothed 
his  hair  thoughtfully. 

"  Curious  man  that,"  he  remarked  with  his 
simple  smile.  "  He  always  looks  to  me  as 
though  there  were  a  tragedy  in  his  life." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  think  so,"  said  Katharine, 
*5  385 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

coldly.  "  It  is  only  his  manner.  He  takes  a 
joke  tragically.  Besides,  he  has  never  married 
unhappily,  or  anything  like  that." 

"  That  may  be,"  said  Cyril  Austen,  with  one 
of  his  occasional  flashes  of  intuition ;  "  but  it 
means  a  tragedy  to  some  men  if  they  have  n't 
got  married  at  all,  and  I  fancy  that 's  one  of 
them.  Ah,  well,  his  father  was  one  of  our 
best  —  " 

Miss  Esther's  voice  came  shrilly  down  the 
passage,  and  the  Rector  hastened  out  of  the 
room  without  finishing  his  sentence. 

"  The  annoyances  of  life,"  thought  Katha- 
rine cynically,  "  are  much  more  important  than 
the  tragedies." 

She  picked  up  her  letter  once  more  and  tore 
it  open.  Even  then  she  did  not  read  it  at 
once,  but  looked  out  of  the  window  first  and 
beyond  the  garden,  where  a  man's  felt  hat  was 
moving  irregularly  along  the  top  of  the  hedge. 
She  made  an  impatient  gesture  and  turned  her 
back  to  the  light,  and  unfolded  Ted's  letter  at 
last.  And  this  is  what  it  contained  :  — 

"  By  the  time  you  get  this,  I  shall  have  cleared  out. 
I  may  be  an  infernally  rotten  ass,  but  I  won't  let  the 
best  girl  in  the  world  marry  me  out  of  kindness,  and 
that  is  all  you  were  going  to  do.  I  tried  to  think  you 
were  a  little  keen  on  me  a  few  weeks  ago,  but  of 
386 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

course  I  was  wrong.  Don't  mind  me.  I  shall  come 
up  smiling  again  after  a  bit.  It  was  just  like  my 
poorness  to  think  I  could  ever  marry  any  one  so 
clever  and  spry  as  yourself.  Of  course  you  will  buck 
up  and  marry  some  played-out  literary  chap,  who  will 
gas  about  books  and  things  all  day  and  make  you 
happy.  Good  old  Kit,  it  has  been  a  mistake  all  along, 
has  n't  it  ?  When  I  come  back,  we  will  be  chums 
again,  won't  we  ?  I  am  off  to  Melbourne  in  the 
morning  and  shall  travel  about  for  a  year,  I  think. 
You  might  write  to  me  —  the  jolly  sort  of  letters  you 
used  to  write.  Monty  knows  all  my  movements. 

Yours  ever. 

Ted." 

The  letter  fell  from  her  hand,  and  she  turned 
and  gazed  blankly  out  of  the  window.  The 
felt  hat  was  no  longer  to  be  seen  at  the  top  of 
the  hedge. 


387 


CHAPTER   XX 

HIGH  up  in  one  of  the  houses  on  the  shady 
side  of  the  Rue  Ruhmhorff,  Katharine  sat  on 
her  balcony  and  thought.  Her  reflections 
were  of  the  desultory  order  begotten  of  early 
spring  lethargy  and  early  spring  sunshine,  re- 
lating to  street  cries  innumerable  and  to  the 
mingled  scent  of  violets  and  asphalt  in  the 
air,  to  the  children  playing  their  perpetual  game 
of  hop-scotch  on  the  white  pavements,  and  to 
the  artisan  opposite  who  was  mixing  his  salad 
by  the  open  window  with  a  nai've  disregard  for 
the  public  gaze.  Her  pupils  were  all  in  the 
Bois  under  the  able  supervision  of  the  excellent 
Miss  Smithson,  and  there  was  temporary  calm 
in  the  three  'etages  that  formed  Mrs.  Down- 
ing's  Parisian  establishment  for  the  daughters 
of  gentlemen. 

"  Will  he  ever  have  done,  I  wonder  ? " 
speculated  Katharine  lazily.  She  was  taking 
quite  a  languid  interest  in  the  progress  of  the 
salad,  and  smiled  to  herself  when  the  man  took 
off  his  blue  blouse  and  attacked  it  afresh  in 
388 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

his  shirt  sleeves.  His  wife  joined  him  after  a 
while,  evidently,  to  judge  from  her  emphatic 
gestures,  with  critical  intent.  But  the  man  re- 
ceived her  volley  of  suggestions  with  an  expres- 
sive shrug  of  the  shoulders,  and  they  finally 
went  off  to  their  mid-day  meal. 

"  What  pitiable  jargon  we  talk,  all  the  world 
over,  about  the  triumph  of  mind  over  matter," 
murmured  Katharine,  yawning  as  she  spoke. 
"  And  all  the  while  matter  goes  on  triumph- 
ing over  mind  on  every  conceivable  occasion  ! 
It  even  gets  into  the  street  cries,"  she  added 
with  another  yawn,  as  a  flower  vender  came 
along  the  street  below  and  sent  up  his  minor 
refrain  in  unvarying  repetition.  "  Des  violettes 
pour  embaumer  la  chambre,"  he  chanted,  "  du 
cresson  pour  la  sante  du  corps  !  " 

It  was  more  than  a  year  since  she  had  ac- 
cepted Mrs.  Downing's  offer  and  settled  here 
in  Paris ;  more  than  a  year  since  Ted  had  gone 
abroad  and  Paul  Wilton  had  bidden  her  fare- 
well. But  she  never  looked  back  on  those 
days  now,  though  not  so  much  from  design  as 
from  lack  of  incentive ;  for  her  life  had  strayed 
into  another  channel,  and  her  days  were  full  of 
the  kind  of  occupation  that  leaves  no  room 
for  the  luxury  of  reminiscence.  It  never  even 
occurred  to  her  to  wonder  whether  she  was 
389 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

happy  or  not ;  she  seemed  to  have  completely 
lost  her  old  trick  of  wanting  a  reason  for  every- 
thing she  thought  or  felt,  and  for  the  time 
being  she  had  become  eminently  practical. 
Even  now,  in  spite  of  the  enervating  effect  of 
the  first  spring  weather,  her  thoughts  returned 
to  the  business  of  the  moment,  and  she  won- 
dered why  the  father  of  her  newest  pupil,  who 
had  made  an  appointment  with  her  for  eleven 
o'clock,  was  so  late  in  coming.  A  ring  at  the 
electric  bell  seemed  to  answer  her  thought,  and 
the  maid  came  in  almost  immediately  with  a 
gentleman's  card  on  a  tray. 

"  British  caution,"  was  Katharine's  criticism, 
as  Julie  explained  that  the  English  monsieur 
had  not  attempted  to  teach  her  his  name.  By 
the  merest  chance  she  glanced  at  the  card  be- 
fore her  visitor  came  in,  and  was  spared  the 
annoyance  of  betraying  the  surprise  she  must 
otherwise  have  felt.  As  it  was,  she  had  time 
to  recover  from  her  astonishment,  even  to  re- 
mark how  different  the  familiar  name  and  ad- 
dress seemed  to  her  when,  for  the  first  time  as 
now,  she  saw  them  transcribed  on  a  visiting 
card,  — "  Mr.  Paul  Wilton,  Essex  Court, 
Temple." 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you,"  she  exclaimed, 
with  a  look  that  did  not  contradict  the  wel- 

390 


The   Making  of  a  Prig 

come  in  her  voice.  And  Julie,  who  had  never 
seen  her  mistress  look  so  joyous  before,  went 
back  to  Marie  in  the  kitchen  with  a  highly 
coloured  account  of  the  meeting  she  had  just 
witnessed,  which  explained  to  that  frivolous 
but  astute  little  person  how  it  was  that 
Madame  always  looked  so  leniently  on  her 
flirtations  with  the  cbarcutier  round  the  corner. 

"  I  have  never  caught  you  idling  before," 
said  Paul,  referring  to  the  attitude  in  which  he 
had  seen  her  through  the  open  door  before 
she  had  turned  round  with  that  glad  look  in 
her  eyes. 

"  I  don't  suppose  you  have,"  she  said.  "  It 
is  n't  so  very  long  since  I  learnt  how  to  idle. 
Do  you  remember  how  bitterly  you  used  to 
complain  because  I  never  wanted  to  lounge  ? 
I  often  lounge  now ;  and  my  greatest  joy  is  to 
think  about  nothing  at  all.  Don't  you  know 
how  restful  it  is  to  think  about  nothing  at  all  ?  " 

"You  must  have  altered  a  good  deal,"  he 
observed. 

"  Do  you  think  I  have,  then  ?  " 

"Ask  me  that  presently,"  he  replied,  with 
an  answering  smile.  "  I  have  got  to  hear  all 
the  news  first,  —  how  keeping  school  agrees  with 
you,  and  everything  there  is  to  tell  about  your- 
self. So  make  haste  and  begin,  please." 
39i 


The   Making   of  a   Prig 

"  Oh,  there  is  nothing  to  tell  about  myself; 
at  least,  nothing  more  than  you  can  learn 
from  the  prospectus  !  Would  you  like  to  see 
one  ?  You  can  read  it  and  learn  what  an  im- 
portant person  I  am,  while  I  go  and  leave  a 
message  for  Miss  Smithson." 

When  she  came  back,  he  regarded  her  with 
«  '  3^  of  amused  interest. 

r  nis  is  a  very    novel    sensation,"    he  re- 


"  I  am  glad  it  amuses  you,"  said  Katharine  ; 
"  but  I  never  knew  before  that  the  prospectus 
was  funny." 

"  Oh,  no  ;  it  is  n't  that,"  he  explained.  "  The 
humour  of  a  prospectus  is  the  kind  of  grim 
joke  that  could  only  be  expected  to  appeal  to 
a  parent.  What  I  meant  was  the  fact  of  your 
appearing  to  me  for  the  first  time  in  the  char- 
acter of  hostess." 

"  I  wondered  how  it  was  that  I  did  not  feel  so 
awed  by  your  presence  as  usual,"  she  remarked. 
"  Now  I  know  it  is  because  you,  even  you,  are 
sensible  to  the  chastening  atmosphere  of  the 
home  of  the  young  idea.  You  had  better 
come  round  the  establishment  at  once,  before 
the  favourable  impression  begins  to  wear  off." 

"  Oh,  please  !  "  he  implored.  "  You  will 
surely  let  me  off?  I  haven't  a  daughter  or  a 
392 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

niece,  or  any  kind  of  feminine  relation  who 
could  be  of  the  least  commercial  value  to  you. 
And  I  really  don't  feel  equal  to  facing  crowds 
of  unsophisticated  girls  in  short  frocks,  with 
pocket  editions  of  their  favourite  poets  in  their 
hands.  Girls  of  that  age  always  expect  you 
to  be  so  well  informed,  and  I  have  n't  run  a 
favourite  poet  for  years." 

"  When  you  first  met  me,"  she  said  emphati- 
cally, "  /  was  an  unsophisticated  girl  in  a  short 
frock,  with  a  whole  list  of  favourite  poets.  And 
I  distinctly  remember  one  occasion  on  which 
I  bored  you  for  half  an  hour  with  my  views  on 
Browning." 

"  I  am  not  here  to  deny  it,"  said  Paul.  "  It 
is  only  an  additional  reason  for  my  wishing  to 
stay  and  talk  to  you,  now  that  you  have  ceased 
to  have  any  views  on  any  subject  whatever. 
Besides,  I  exhausted  the  subject  of  unsophisti- 
cation  in  short  frocks  when  I  first  had  the 
pleasure  of  meeting  you,  four  years  ago.  And, 
interesting  as  I  found  it  then,  I  have  no  par- 
ticular wish  to  renew  it  now." 

"  All  of  which  is  an  unpleasant  reflection  on 
the  enormous  age  I  seem  to  have  acquired  in 
four  years,"  she  cried.  "  They  must  have  been 
singularly  long  years  to  you  !  " 

"  With  the  exception  of  the  last  one,"  said 
393 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

Paul,  "  they  were  much  the  same  as  any  other 
years  to  me." 

"  Now,  that 's  odd,"  she  remarked  ;  "  be- 
cause last  year  has  seemed  to  go  more  quickly 
than  any  other  year  in  my  life.  I  wonder  why 
it  seemed  so  long  to  you  ? " 

"  It  did  n't,"  he  replied  promptly.  "  It  was 
the  other  three  that  did  that,  because  I  spent 
them  in  learning  wisdom." 

"  And  the  last  one  in  forgetting  it  ?  How 
you  must  have  wasted  the  other  three !  Ah, 
there  are  the  girls  at  last,"  she  added,  springing 
to  her  feet.  "  That  means  dejeuner,  and  I  am 
as  hungry  as  two  wolves.  You  will  stop  of 
course  ?  " 

"  More  developments,"  he  murmured.  "You 
used  to  scorn  such  mundane  matters  as  meals, 
in  the  days  when  the  poets  were  food  enough 
for  you.  But  please  don't  imagine  for  a 
moment  that  I  am  going  to  face  that  Anglo- 
French  crowd  out  there ;  I  would  almost  as 
soon  listen  to  your  opinion  of  Browning." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say,"  she  complained, 
"  that  you  expect  me  to  minister  to  your  wants 
in  here  ?  What  will  Miss  Smithson  say,  what 
will  the  dear  children  say  in  their  weekly  letters 
home  ?  You  don't  really  mean  it  ?  " 

"  On  the  contrary,"  he  replied,  placidly,  "  I 
394 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

am  going  to  take  you  out  to  lunch  in  the 
most  improper  restaurant  this  improper  city 
can  produce.  So  go  and  put  on  that  Parisian 
hat  of  yours,  and  be  as  quick  as  you  like 
about  it.  I  am  rather  hungry,  too." 

"  You  really  seem  to  forget,"  she  said,  "  that 
I  am  the  respectable  head  of  a  high-class 
seminary  for  —  " 

"  I  only  wish  you  would  allow  me  to  forget 
it,"  he  interrupted.  "  It  is  just  because  you 
have  been  occupying  yourself  for  a  whole  year, 
and  with  the  most  lamentable  success,  in  grow- 
ing elderly  and  respectable,  that  I  intend  to  give 
you  this  opportunity  of  being  regenerated. 
May  I  ask  what  you  are  waiting  for,  now  ?  " 

"  I  am  waiting  for  some  of  the  conventional 
dogma  you  used  to  preach  to  me  in  the  days 
when  /  wanted  to  be  improper,"  she  retorted. 
"  It  would  really  save  a  great  deal  of  trouble 
if  our  respective  moral  codes  could  be  induced 
to  coincide  sometimes,  would  n't  it  ?  " 

"It  would  save  a  great  deal  of  trouble  if 
you  were  to  do  as  you  are  told,  without  talk- 
ing quite  so  much  about  it.  It  is  now  half- 
past  —  " 

"  I  tell  you  it  is  impossible,"  she  protested. 
"  You  must  have  your  dejeuner  here,  with  un- 
sophistication  twenty-five  strong  —  and  Miss 
395 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

Smithson.  What  is  the  use  of  my  having 
acquired  a  position  of  importance  if  I  delib- 
erately throw  it  away  again  by  behaving  like 
an  improper  schoolgirl  ?  " 

"What  is  the  use  of  a  position  at  all," 
replied  Paul,  "  if  it  does  n't  enable  you  to  be 
improper  when  you  choose  ?  Don't  you  think 
we  might  consider  the  argument  at  an  end? 
I  am  quite  willing  to  concede  to  Miss  Smith- 
son,  or  to  any  other  person  in  authority,  that 
you  have  made  all  the  objections  necessary 
to  the  foolish  possessor  of  a  conscience,  if  you 
will  only  go  and  tell  her  that  you  do  not  intend 
to  be  in  to  lunch." 

"  I  have  told  her,"  said  Katharine  inadver- 
tently, and  then  laughed  frankly  at  her  own 
admission.  "  I  always  spoil  all  my  deceptions 
by  being  truthful  again  too  soon,"  she  added 
plaintively. 

"  Women  alway  spoil  their  vices  by  incom- 
pletion,"observed  Paul.  "  They  have  reduced 
virtue  to  an  art,  but  there  is  a  crudity  about 
their  vice  that  always  gives  them  away  sooner 
or  later.  That  is  why  they  are  so  easily  found 
out ;  it  is  not  because  they  are  worse  than 
men,  but  because  they  are  better.  They  re- 
pent too  soon,  and  your  sins  always  find  you 
out  when  you  begin  to  repent." 
396 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  That 's  perfectly  true,"  said  Katharine, 
half  jestingly.  "  You  would  never  have  dis- 
covered that  I  was  a  prig  if  I  had  not  become 
partly  conscious  of  it  first." 

"  That,"  said  Paul  deliberately,  "  is  a  per- 
sonal application  of  my  remarks  which  I 
should  never  have  dreamed  of  making  my- 
self; but,  since  you  are  good  enough  to 
allow  it,  I  must  say  that  the  way  you  have 
bungled  the  only  vice  you  possess  is  quite 
singular.  If  you  had  been  a  man  no  one 
would  have  detected  your  priggishness  at  all ; 
at  its  worst  it  would  have  been  called  person- 
ality. It  is  the  same  with  everything.  When 
a  woman  writes  an  improper  book  she  funks 
the  crisis,  and  gets  called  immoral  for  her 
pains  ;  a  man  goes  the  whole  hog,  and  we 
call  it  art." 

"According  to  that,"  objected  Katharine, 
"it  is  impossible  to  tell  whether  a  man  is 
good  or  bad.  In  fact,  the  better  he  appears 
to  be  the  worse  he  must  be  in  reality ;  because 
it  only  means  that  he  is  cleverer  at  conceal- 
ing it." 

"  None  of  us  are  either  good  or  bad,"  re- 
plied Paul.  "  It  is  all  a  question  of  brains. 
Goodness  is  only  badness  done  well,  and  mo- 
rality is  mostly  goodness  done  badly.  I  should 
397 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

like  to  know  what  I  have  said  to  make  you 
smile  ?  " 

"  It  is  n't  what  you  have  said,"  laughed 
Katharine  ;  "  it  is  the  way  you  said  it.  There 
is  something  so  familiar  in  the  way  you  are 
inventing  a  whole  new  ethical  system  on  the 
spur  of  the  moment,  and  delivering  it  just  as 
weightily  as  if  you  had  been  evolving  it  for 
a  lifetime.  Do  go  on ;  it  has  such  an  addi- 
tional charm  after  one  has  had  a  holiday  for 
more  than  a  year  !  " 

"  When  you  have  done  being  brilliant  and 
realised  the  unimportance  of  being  conscien- 
tious, perhaps  you  will  kindly  go  and  get 
ready,"  said  Paul  severely.  And  she  laughed 
again  at  nothing  in  particular,  and  raised  no 
further  objection  to  following  what  was  dis- 
tinctly her  inclination. 

When  they  had  had  dejeuner  and  were 
strolling  through  the  Palais  Royal,  he  alluded 
for  the  first  time  to  their  parting  at  Ivingdon 
more  than  a  year  ago.  She  gave  a  little  start 
and  reddened. 

"  Oh,  don't  let  us  talk  about  that ;  I  am 
so  ashamed  of  myself  whenever  I  think  of 
it,"  she  said  hastily. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  he  replied  with  composure, 
"  because  I  particularly  wish  to  talk  about  it 
398 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

just  now.  You  must  remember  that,  until 
I  met  Ted  in  town  last  week,  I  had  no  idea 
you  were  not  married." 

She  turned  and  stared  at  him  suddenly. 

"  I  never  thought  of  that,*'  she  said,  slowly. 

"  Of  course  you  did  n't.  In  fact,  all  your 
proceedings  immediately  following  that  par- 
ticular day  in  December  seem  to  have  been 
characterised  by  the  same  lack  of  reflection. 
You  might  have  known  that  there  was  no  one 
who  could  tell  me  of  your  erratic  actions. 
And  how  was  I  to  guess  that  you  would  go 
flying  off  to  Paris  just  when  everything  was 
made  easy  for  .you  to  stop  in  England  ?  I  was 
naturally  forced  to  conclude,  as  I  neither  saw 
nor  heard  from  you  again,  that  you  had  carried 
out  your  absurdly  heroic  purpose  of  marrying 
Ted.  I  must  say,  Katharine,  you  have  a 
wonderful  faculty  for  complicating  matters." 

"  Nothing  of  the  sort,"  she  said  indignantly. 
"  And  your  memory  is  no  better  than  mine, 
for  you  seem  to  forget  that  it  was  you  who 
made  our  parting  final.  You  were  so  tragic 
that  of  course  I  thought  you  meant  it." 

"  Before  we  criticise  my  own  action  in  the 
matter,"   said  Paul,  "  I  should  rather    like    to 
know  why  you  did  come  and  bury  yourself 
here,  without  telling  anybody  ?  " 
399 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  Oh,  it  is  easy  for  you  to  smile  and  be 
sarcastic  !  I  had  to  come,  of  course ;  it  was 
the  only  thing  to  be  done.  Nature  had  made 
me  a  prig,  and  everything  was  forcing  me  to 
continue  to  be  a  prig,  and  all  my  attempts  at 
being  anything  else  did  n't  come  off.  What 
chance  is  there  for  any  one  with  priggish  tend- 
encies in  a  world  like  ours  ?  It  simply 
bristles  with  opportunities  for  behaving  in  a 
superior  way,  unless  you  resolutely  make  up 
your  mind  to  skim  over  the  surface  of  it  and 
never  to  think  deeply  at  all.  What  was  I  to 
do  ?  Ted  had  gone  abroad  to  escape  from  my 
overbearing  superiority,  and  you  had  left  in 
disgust  because  marrying  for  love  was  n't  good 
enough  for  me ;  and  then  I  had  Mrs.  Down- 
ing's  letter,  and  she  persisted  in  thinking  that 
I  was  the  only  person  in  the  world  who  could 
manage  the  mothers  of  her  fashionable  pupils. 
It  seemed  as  though  I  were  destined  to  remain 
a  superior  person  to  the  end  of  my  days,  and  I 
was  n't  going  to  fight  against  my  natural  tend- 
encies any  longer.  I  determined  that  if  I  had 
got  to  be  a  prig  at  all,  I  would  at  least  make 
as  good  a  prig  as  possible.  Now  do  you  un- 
derstand why  I  came  ?  " 

"  Before  I  attempt  to  do  that,  do  you  mind 
mentioning  where  you  are  going  to  take  me  ?  " 
400 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

said  Paul  casually.  She  looked  round  quickly 
and  found  that  they  had  wandered  down  to 
the  Seine  and  were  close  to  the  landing-stage 
of  the  boats  that  went  to  St.  Cloud ;  and  an 
importunate  proprietor  was  representing  to 
them  in  broken  English  the  charms  of  a  trip 
down  the  river. 

"  Oh,  let  us  go  ! "  she  cried  impulsively. 
"  It  would  be  so  beautiful !  Miss  Smithson 
will  never  respect  me  again,  but  I  don't  feel  as 
though  I  could  go  back  to  all  those  girls  just 
yet.  Oh,  don't  be  so  musty !  It  wont  be 
chilly,  and  you  are  not  a  bit  too  old,  and  you 
have  just  got  to  come.  Oh,  don't  I  remember 
those  moods  of  yours  when  everything  was 
too  youthful  for  you  !  I  never  knew  any  one 
with  such  a  plastic  age  as  yours." 

He  smiled  perfunctorily,  and  gave  in ;  and 
they  were  soon  journeying  down  the  Seine. 
Katharine  was  in  a  mood  to  appreciate  every- 
thing, and  she  leaned  over  the  side  of  the  boat 
and  made  a  running  commentary  on  the  beauty 
of  the  scene  as  they  glided  along  between  the 
banks.  Paul  tried  two  or  three  seats  in  suc- 
cession, and  finally  chose  one  with  an  air  of 
resignation  and  felt  for  his  tobacco  pouch. 

"  There  is  a  smell  of  oil,"  he  said.     "  And 
the  chestnuts  at  Bushey  are  far  finer." 
26  401 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

"  Can't  you  lower  your  standard  just  for 
this  one  afternoon  ?  "  she  suggested  mock- 
ingly. "  It  would  be  so  pleasant  if  you  were 
to  allow  that  Nature,  for  once,  was  almost 
good  enough  for  you.  I  am  so  glad  it  is 
always  good  enough  for  me ;  it  gives  one's 
critical  faculty  such  a  rest." 

"  Or  proves  the  non-existence  of  one," 
added  Paul. 

"  It  is  surprising,"  she  continued  in  the 
same  tone,  "  how  you  always  manage  to  spoil 
the  light  side  of  life  by  treating  it  seriously. 
Do  you  ever  allow  yourself  a  happy,  irrespon- 
sible moment?  " 

"  Perhaps  I  have  n't  seen  as  much  of  the 
light  side  as  you  have,"  he  returned,  quite 
unmoved.  "  And  it  is  always  easier  to  play 
our  tragedy  than  our  comedy  ;  the  wise  en  seme 
is  better  adapted  to  begin  with.  That  is  why 
the  mediocre  writer  generally  ends  his  book 
badly ;  he  gets  his  effect  much  more  easily 
than  by  ending  it  well." 

"  What  has  made  you  so  cynical,  I  wonder  ?  " 
she  asked  lazily. 

"  Principally,  the  happiness  of  the  vulgar," 

returned  Paul  promptly.     "  It  is  not  our  own 

unhappiness    that    makes   us   cynical,   but    the 

badly   done    happiness    of  others.      Quite    an 

402 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

ordinary  person  may  be  able  to  bear  misfor- 
tune more  or  less  nobly,  but  it  takes  a  dash  of 
genius  to  be  happy  without  being  aggressive 
over  it." 

"  I  can't  imagine  your  taking  the  trouble  to 
be  aggressive  over  anything,"  observed  Katha- 
rine. "  That  is  probably  why  you  prefer  to 
remain  sombre,  whether  the  occasion  demands 
it  or  not.  It  is  very  prosaic  to  have  to 
acknowledge  that  a  man's  most  characteristic 
pose  is  merely  due  to  his  laziness.  On  the 
whole,  I  am  rather  glad  I  am  quite  an  ordinary 
person  ;  I  would  much  sooner  be  happy,  even 
if  it  does  make  me  vulgar." 

"  Happiness  is  like  wine,"  said  Paul,  with- 
out heeding  her.  "  It  demoralises  you  at  the 
time,  and  it  leaves  you  flat  afterwards.  The 
most  difficult  thing  in  life  is  to  know  how  to 
take  our  happiness  when  it  comes." 

"  It  is  more  difficult,"  murmured  Katharine, 
"  to  know  how  to  do  without  it  when  it 
does  n't  come." 

They  landed  at  St.  Cloud,  and  walked  up 
through  the  little  village  and  into  the  park 
where  the  ruins  of  the  palace  were.  They  had 
strayed  away  from  their  fellow  passengers  by 
this  time,  and  the  complete  solitude  of  the 
place  and  its  atmosphere  of  decay  affected  them 
403 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

both  in  the  same  way,  and  they  gradually 
dropped  into  silence.  He  was  the  first  to 
break  the  pause. 

"  Don't  you  think  it  is  time  we  brought  this 
farce  to  an  end  ?  "  he  asked  with  a  carelessness 
of  manner  that  was  obviously  assumed. 

"  Who  is  being  farcical  ?  "  she  returned  just 
as  lightly. 

"  You  did  that  admirably,  but  it  has  n't 
deceived  me,"  said  Paul  serenely.  "  You 
know  as  well  as  I  do  that  it  is  futile  to  go  on 
any  longer  like  this.  We  have  tried  it  for  a 
year,  and  I  for  one  don't  think  very  much  of 
it.  Your  experiences  have  doubtless  been 
happier  than  mine  ;  but  if  you  mean  to  tell  me 
that  they  have  taught  you  to  prefer  solitude  to 
companionship,  then  you  are  as  thorough  a 
prig  as  you  came  over  here  to  become.  And 
that  I  don't  believe  for  a  moment,  for  at  your 
worst  you  were  always  inconsistent,  and  incon- 
sistency is  the  saving  grace  of  the  prig." 

"  I  appreciate  the  honour  of  your  approval," 
replied  Katharine  with  exaggerated  solemnity  ; 
"  but,  for  all  that,  I  still  think  that  living  with 
unsophistication  in  short  petticoats  is  likely  to 
be  less  tiring,  on  the  whole,  than  living  with 
some  one  for  whom  nothing  in  heaven  or 
earth  has  yet  been  brought  to  perfection." 
404 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

She  ended  with  a  peal  of  laughter.  Paul 
strolled  on  at  the  same  measured  pace  as 
before. 

"  Besides,"  she  added,  "  I  thought  we  had 
both  done  with  the  matter  a  year  ago.  What 
is  the  use  of  dragging  it  up  again  ? " 

"  I  thought,"  added  Paul,  "  that  we  had  also 
done  with  taking  ourselves  seriously,  a  year 
ago.  But  you  seem  to  wish  the  process  to  be 
renewed.  Very  well,  then ;  let  us  begin  at  the 
beginning.  The  initial  difficulty,  if  I  remem- 
ber rightly,  was  the  fact  that  we  were  very 
much  in  love  with  each  other." 

"  I  know  /  was  n't,"  said  Katharine  hotly. 
"  I  never  hated  any  one  so  much  in  my  life, 
and  —  " 

"  Which  gets  over  the  initial  difficulty, 
does  it  not  ?  Secondly  then,  you  determined 
in  the  most  unselfish  manner  possible  that 
a  wife  would  inevitably  cripple  what  you 
were  kind  enough  to  call  my  career.  I  need 
hardly  say  how  touched  I  felt  by  your  charm- 
ing consideration,  but  I  should  like  to  point 
out  —  " 

"It  is  perfectly  detestable  of  you  to  have 
come  all  this  way  on  purpose  to  laugh  at 
me,"  cried  Katharine. 

"  I  should  like  to  point  out,"  repeated  Paul, 
405 


The  Making  of  a   Prig 

"  that  I  feel  quite  capable  of  pursuing  my 
career  without  any  suggestions  from  my  wife  at 
all,  and  that,  engrossing  as  her  presence  would 
undoubtedly  prove  —  " 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  interrupted  Katharine, 
"  that  you  don't  want  a  wife  at  all ;  you  only 
want  an  audience." 

"  I  don't  think,"  said  Paul,  smiling  indul- 
gently, "  that  we  need  quarrel  about  terms, 
need  we  ?  Well,  as  I  was  saying,  my  career 
would  probably  continue  to  take  care  of  itself, 
even  if  there  were  two  of  us  to  be  asked  out  to 
dinner,  instead  of  one.  And  that  disposes  of 
the  second  obstacle,  does  n't  it  ?  The  third 
and  last  —  " 

"  Last  ?     There  are  millions  of  others  !  " 

"  The  third  and  last,"  resumed  Paul,  "  was, 
I  think,  the  trifling  fact  that  I  had  once  pre- 
sumed to  call  you  a  prig,  in  consequence  of 
which  you  chose  to  pretend  you  were  afraid  of 
me.  Was  n't  that  so  ?  " 

"  Afraid  of  you  ?  What  a  ridiculous  idea  !  " 
she  exclaimed.  "  Why,  I  was  never  afraid  of 
you  in  my  life  !  " 

"  Which  disposes  of  the  third  and  last  diffi- 
culty," said  Paul  promptly. 

Katharine  stamped  her  foot  and  walked  on 
in  front  of  him. 

406 


The   Making   of  a    Prig 

"  You  don't  seem  to  think,"  she  said,  "  that 
I  might  not  want  to  marry  you." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Paul ;  "  I  don't." 

She  said  no  more,  but  continued  to  walk  a 
little  way  in  front  of  him  so  that  he  could  not 
see  her  face.  She  only  spoke  once  again  on 
their  way  down  to  the  boat. 

"  How  was  Ted  looking  when  you  saw 
him  ?  "  she  asked  abruptly.  "  Perhaps  you 
did  n't  notice,  though  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Paul,  blandly.  "  I  've  never 
seen  him  looking  better ;  he  seemed  to  have 
had  a  splendid  time  out  there.  He  asked  after 
you,  by  the  way,  and  seemed  rather  surprised 
that  I  had  n't  heard  from  you." 

She  made  no  comment,  and  they  reached 
the  boat  in  silence. 

"  You  will  come  back  to  tea  with  me  ?  "  she 
said,  as  they  stood  waiting  for  it  to  start. 

"  With  you,  —  or  with  unsophistication  ?  " 

"  Oh,  with  me  of  course !  Don't  you 
think  you  have  been  funny  enough  for  one 
afternoon  ?  " 

"  Our  best  jokes  are  always  our  uncon- 
scious ones,"  murmured  Paul.  "  Seriously, 
though,  I  think  I  won't  bother  you  any  more. 
I  shall  only  be  in  the  way  if  I  stay  any  longer." 

"  Now  what  have  I  done,"  she  demanded 
407 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

indignantly,  "  to  make  you  think  you  are  in 
the  way  ? " 

"  Oh,  of  course  —  nothing.  So  foolish  of 
me ! "  said  Paul  humbly.  "  I  shall  be  de- 
lighted to  return  with  you  ;  there  are  still  so 
many  things  we  want  to  say  to  each  other, 
are  there  not  ?  " 

However,  they  did  not  say  them  on  the  way 
home,  for  Katharine  soon  became  thoughtful 
again,  and  he  made  no  further  attempt  to 
draw  her  out  but  remained  studiously  at  the 
other  end  of  the  boat  until  they  landed  ;  and 
after  that,  the  noise  of  the  cab  in  which  they 
drove  across  Paris  was  sufficient  excuse  for 
refraining  from  anything  like  conversation. 
At  the  top  of  the  stairs,  as  they  stayed  for  a 
moment  outside  her  appartement  to  recover  their 
breath,  she  suddenly  turned  to  him  with  one 
of  her  unaccountable  smiles. 

"Well?"  he  said. 

"  You  know  I  did  n't  mean  to  be  cross,  don't 
you  ?  "  she  asked  him  in  a  hurried  undertone. 

"  You  absurd  little  silly  !  "  was  all  he  said. 

They  sat  for  a  long  time  over  tea,  and 
neither  of  them  felt  inclined  to  talk.  But  the 
silence  was  not  embarrassing.  And  the  early 
spring  day  drew  to  a  close  and  the  room  grew 
dark  with  shadows ;  and  still  they  sat  there, 
408 


The   Making  of  a   Prig 

and  it  did  not  occur  to  either  of  them  to 
make  conversation.  At  last,  Katharine  stirred 
in  her  seat  at  the  end  of  the  sofa  and  looked 
towards  the  dim  outline  of  his  figure  against 
the  window,  and  finished  her  reflections  out 
loud. 

"After  all,"  she  said  thoughtfully,  "the 
great  thing  is  to  be  sane.  Nothing  else  mat- 
ters much  if  one  can  only  be  sane  about  things. 
There  are  heaps  of  reasons  why  you  and  I 
should  not  marry,  if  we  were  to  begin  hunting 
them  up ;  but  why  bother  about  it  ?  You 
know  and  I  know  that  we  have  simply  got 
to  try  the  experiment,  and  chance  the  rest. 
One  must  risk  something.  And  it  can't  be 
much  worse  than  going  on  alone  like  this." 

"  No,"  said  Paul,  "  it  can't  be  worse  than 
that." 

He  came  and  sat  on  the  sofa,  too,  and  there 
was  silence  once  more.  He  put  out  his  hand 
to  find  hers,  and  she  gave  it  him  and  laughed 
softly. 

"  I  have  an  idea,"  she  said  irrelevantly. 
"  We  must  marry  Ted  to  Marion." 

"  We  ? "  said  Paul,  smiling.  And  she 
laughed  again. 

"  Is  n't  it  ridiculous,"  she  said,  "  after  all 
our  views  about  marriage  and  so  on,  —  to  end 
409 


The  Making   of  a   Prig 

in  behaving  just  like  any  one  else  who  never 
had  any  views  at  all  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  agreed  Paul.  "  We  have  n't  even 
stuck  to  our  priggishness. ' 

"  We  ?  "  exclaimed  Katharine. 

But  there  is  always  a  limit  to  a  man's  con- 
fessions, and  Paul's  was  never  finished. 


410 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR. 
Jt 

AT  THE  RELTON  ARMS. 

Miss  Evelyn  Sharp  is  to  be  congratulated  on  having,  through  the  mouth 
of  one  of  her  characters,  said  one  of  the  wisest  words  yet  spoken  on  what 
is  rather  absurdly  called  "The  Marriage  Question"  (page  132).  It  is  an 
interesting  and  well-written  story,  with  some  smart  characterisation  and 
quite  a  sufficiency  of  humour.  —  Daily  Chronicle. 

A  delightful  story.  The  most  genuine  piece  of  humour  in  a  book  that 
is  nowhere  devoid  of  it,  is  that  scene  in  the  inn  parlour  where  Digby  finds 
himself  engaged  to  two  young  women  within  five  minutes  ;  while  the  two 
brief  colloquies  of  the  landlady  and  her  cronies  make  one  suspect  that  the 
author  could  produce  an  admirable  study  of  village  humour.  —  Athenceum, 

A  distinctly  clever  book,  of  a  fresh  conventionality.  —  Academy. 


WYMPS:  FAIRY  TALES. 

IViib  8  coloured  Illustrations  and  decorated  cover  by 

Mabel  Dearmer. 

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There  's    everything    such    people 
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Sweeter  little  maid  than  you 
Never  read  a  story  through. 
Through  a  sweeter  little  book 
Little  maid  shall  never  look. 

MR.  WILLIAM  WATSON 

in  The  Academy, 

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__  ____    ing  new  stories.  —  Punch. 

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